


Just a One-Night Stand

by followyourenergy



Series: One-Night Stand [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Castiel, CPA Castiel, Castiel and Anna Milton are Siblings, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Gabriel (Supernatural) are Siblings, Divorced Castiel, F/M, Gabriel Being Gabriel, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Infidelity Outside of Castiel/Dean Winchester, Intoxication, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, One Night Stands, POV Castiel, Pining, Protective Gabriel, Sexually Frustrated Castiel, Sexually Frustrated Dean, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Slow Burn, Top Dean, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 59,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followyourenergy/pseuds/followyourenergy
Summary: Castiel Milton is tense, ticked off, tipsy, and trolling. Or he thinks that’s what it’s called. The divorced man has never had a one-night stand, but he believes it’s just what he needs to get out of his funk and get to feeling something like himself again. He meets Dean Winchester, a selfless, kindhearted man who’s down and drunk after yet another betrayal, the relationship one in a line of failed relationships in which he’s ended up on the losing end.  They get along well, and they agree to a one-night stand... no commitments, no complications.  But through a series of events, their one-night stand gets delayed... and delayed... and delayed.  And while they’re waiting for their inevitable hookup, Cas finds himself falling for the man he’s only meant to have for one night, a man who said he was swearing off relationships.  Can he convince himself that the agreement they made is all he really wants?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So I’m trying something a little different (for me). I started writing this from Cas’ point of view, but I missed having Dean’s point of view. So... rather than starting over (because I really liked the challenge of one POV in a longer fic), I’m writing two! This story is from Cas’ POV and the second story in the series, “The Agreement,” is from Dean’s POV. They can each stand alone, so you can read just one or read them consecutively... or you can read them concurrently, as I’ll be releasing them within a day of each other each week! If you like the idea of knowing what the other character is thinking or doing, or seeing things that happen to one character that are not included in the other fic, you’ll have the option. Each story will have a bit of repetition (such as dialogue), but I’ll do what I can to make each one unique by giving you a glimpse into the thought process of the main character and sometimes will include additional dialogue not included in the other fic. Whatever you choose to do, I hope you enjoy it. :)

Castiel Milton is tense, ticked off, and tipsy.

It’s been a hell of a week — a hell of a year, really, what with his seemingly proper and even-tempered wife betraying him and trying to run him through the wringer, thankfully getting nothing but grief and a divorce for her troubles, but for now he’s focused on this week and Tax Hell. No, scratch that – he’s focused on right here, right now. And right now, he is very, very sexually frustrated. He doesn’t know what he can do about his craptastic week, but he knows what to do about the sexual frustration. In theory, anyway.

Castiel walks into the bar a few doors down from the bar he just left. _A man walks into a bar… ha. Yup, the man who just walked into the bar is quite the joke_ , Castiel thinks miserably about himself. Dust from an old, ratty yellow curtain by the door blows in his face. His nose twitches. He perches on the well-worn barstool – no dust here – and asks the bartender for a beer. He politely thanks the woman with the light brown hair and the no-nonsense attitude. Castiel supposes that kind of attitude is helpful if you work in a bar. He glances at his phone and opens Tinder, something his sister encouraged him to use. It’s crap, if you ask him, but he supposes it tosses out the small talk. He rolls his eyes at himself. He hates Tinder. He’s too old for it, anyway, and he’s been married. Divorced guys using Tinder strikes him as creepy, somehow. The whole thing about others knowing his location is creepy, too, and he’s not too drunk to realize that. He deletes himself from Tinder and gets rid of all traces of it from his phone as he gulps his beer. _God, I suck at this._

“Dude, you look like you’re trying to murder your phone with your eyes,” a man toward the end of the bar calls. He looks a bit inebriated himself.

“Not exactly. Just this Tinder thing.”

“That’s how Big Brother gets you, you know,” the man says in a deep voice. Castiel is pretty sure it’s a joke.

“It mocks me,” Castiel frowns.

“See, that’s why I don’t use it,” he smiles as he walks over and parks himself in the seat next to Castiel. He has a great smile – straight, white teeth between plush lips above an adorable cleft chin. _Adorable. For crying out loud._

“You don’t use it because your phone is stuck in 2005,” Cas comments, looking pointedly at the man’s thick flip phone.

“Gets the job done, like me,” he smirks, flashing Castiel a glassy-eyed, flirty wink. Castiel can’t quite see the color of the man’s eyes, but they look tired, and they’re searching his own. “So, what’re you in for?”

Castiel looks around him. “Did I step into a prison?” The man snickers with the delight of a person who’s not drinking his first of the evening, and he looks like he’s having fun. Fun. Now he remembers. That’s what he came here for.

“Fun,” he answers.

“You’re in here for fun?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Well, man, most people have fun with other people. You look like you’re by yourself.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Castiel finishes the beer and the woman slides another one his way. He takes several gulps before the man speaks again.

“You’re here to find someone to have fun with?”

“Mmm.”

“I see.” The man’s hair reminds him of browned autumn leaves, the crunchy ones. Castiel likes it. “You got a name?”

“That’s kind of a stupid question.” He smirks at the handsome almost-stranger, whose own lips twitch in amusement. It was a bit of an asshole thing to say, but he can’t be bothered to care. He’s tired of restraint.

“Alright, I’ll rephrase,” the man says. _What’s_ your name?”

 _Who am I tonight?_ He knocks down another few gulps before answering, “Castiel.”

“Casa-what-now?”

“Castiel,” he says, not able to tell if his voice is slurring the syllables or if this guy is having the same problem with his name that most people do.

“I’m gonna call you Cas. It’s funner.”

“Did you seriously just say ‘funner’? I think I puked in my mouth a little.”

The man chuckles. “Yup, I did, because you are here to have fun, and ‘funner’ is more fun to say than ‘more fun,’ and Cas is the name of a guy who knows how to have fun. Right?”

“If you say so,” he shrugs, “though if you knew me you’d know I don’t really know how to have fun.” _I used to, maybe_.

“Sure you do, you just aren’t having fun _right now_ ,” the man says. _He doesn’t know the half of it_ , Castiel thinks. _I go to work and I come home and in the last few years I nearly forgot who I am._ He refocuses on the man beside him, who’s still talking. “Like, in life. You’re not having fun in your life _right now_. I can tell. So why do you want to have fun?”

“Because I’m divorced and sexually unsatisfied,” he answers. It’s the truth. No need to sugarcoat it.

The man raises his eyebrows, likely taken aback by Cas’ straightforward answer. “Ah. Well, you need a wingman?”

“No, just a man.” Castiel arches an eyebrow at him as he gulps down the rest of his beer. A third one appears without him asking, along with another for the man before him. The man’s eyes shift, though Castiel (Cas, he’s Cas tonight) can’t quite describe how.

“Say what now?” the man asks.

Castiel focuses laser beams toward Dean, daring him. “I _said_ I need a man.”

“Oh yeah?” the man says as he leans in and yeah, it’s been a long time but Castiel recognizes the hunger in his eyes. He sees they're a gorgeous green. Something swirls in his gut. “And what do you need a man for?”

Castiel leans in, mirroring his companion. “What’s your name?”

The man’s face scrunches in confusion at the sudden change in topic. “Dean.”

Not breaking eye contact, Cas says, “Well, _Dean_ , I need a man to pound me so hard we crack plaster and break bed frames.”

The man’s – Dean’s – eyes dilate. “Holy fuck,” he murmurs.

“If it’s that good then yes, it will be, because I’ll be screaming his name like a prayer.”

They maintain eye contact for several moments, Dean gulping and Castiel trying desperately to regulate his thumping heart. He’s never flirted so brazenly. But the sultry look he’s going for feels foreign, and he buries his face in his hand to stave off the nervous laughter threatening to break his seduction. Dean notices and laughs the same sort of nervous laugh that Castiel is trying to restrain.

“Shit, Cas, that’s a hell of a line. You ever use it before?”

Castiel is too drunk to be suave. “No, I can’t say that I have. Six years of marriage eliminated the need to flirt.” He takes a sip of his lager to calm his nerves.

“Maybe that’s why you’re divorced,” Dean suggests with a drunken squint. “You didn’t flirt with your wife enough, keep the fire stoked.”

Castiel pretends to ponder that a moment, tapping his chin. “No, actually we’re divorced because she decided screwing the minister at her new church was in her best interest.” Dean chokes on his beer and Castiel forgets for a moment that he probably shouldn’t say things like that. He’s supposed to be luring this man into his bed. Or Dean’s bed. Any bed will do, really. He pats Dean on the back as he catches his breath. “Sorry,” he says to ease Dean’s discomfort.

Dean winces. “No, I’m sorry, man. It was kind of a shitty thing for me to say, anyway.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Castiel shrugs. “She was so insecure about my bisexuality, always thinking I was going to cheat on her, and she’s the one who ending up cheating on me. With a guy she knew I hated, the fuckin’ arrogant prick. The whole thing is worse than a telenovela.” He swigs his beer and ruffles his hair. “So why are you here, anyway?” he says, to change the subject.

“Funny you ask,” Dean says with no trace of humor in his voice. He downs several gulps of beer before continuing. “So get this… ha, fuck, my brother always says that. Anyway, so I got this boyfriend. It’s actually our six month anniversary tonight.”

“People celebrate those? Romantic. My ex-wife and I weren’t really romantic.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here getting drunk with you, so what does that tell you?”

Castiel pauses. “Tells me this isn’t going to be a nice story.”

“Exactly.”

Castiel gives him a sheepish look. “Sorry about trying to rope you into a one-night stand. Didn’t know you have a boyfriend.”

“ _Had_ , Cas. I _had_ a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Cas says, his inebriated mind trying to follow. “I should stop interrupting.”

“S’okay. You wanted to have a one-night stand with me?”

Cas stares at his hands, wrapped around the sweating beer bottle. _Wow, I really suck at this._ “Well, yes. I thought that was obvious. Was my flirting that bad?”

Dean breaks into a laugh, and Castiel tries not to feel hurt. The man settles and looks apologetic. “Sorry, no, it’s not you, it’s… God, this whole thing is fucked up. Let me finish my story.” Cas nods and Dean rubs his face and says, “Okay, so I _had_ this boyfriend. We were roommates first, ‘cause I moved in to help him with bills and shit ‘cause his last ‘roommate’ left and took almost everything. Eventually we started dating or fucking around or whatever. So…”

“Well, which was it? Were you dating or fucking around?”

“I don’t even know anymore, Cas. I told myself we were dating or ‘together’ or whatever. I mean, we didn’t go on actual dates but I didn’t know what else to call it.”

“Ah. Sorry for interrupting. Again. Go on.”

“It’s alright. So anyway, I went home early from work a few nights ago to surprise him. Figured I’d be nice, make him dinner to celebrate our anniversary early since he said he had to work tonight. Instead he surprised me by having a strange guy in our bed.”

“Strange like weird, or like a stranger?” Castiel asks without thinking.

“Like a stranger, dumbass.”

“He could’ve been a weirdo,” Castiel says, trying to defend himself. It was a dumb question in retrospect, but he’s not about to say so.

Dean huffs a tiny smile. “Well, he did have this tattoo of the Frosted Flakes tiger on his thigh…”

The image of the famous cartoon tiger on the cereal box strikes Castiel's inebriated brain as downright hysterical, and his mood instantly lifts. Castiel breaks into peals of laughter as he says, “Tony the Tiger? Oh my God. Did he have Snap, Crackle and Pop on his ass?” and soon Dean follows, slapping the bar with his hand as he tries to catch his breath.

“Nah, he had that fuckin’ leprechaun on his ass,” Dean retorts in a terrible Irish accent, causing the two men’s eyes to tear up. “Seriously! And he was, like, ‘Wha?’ with this stupid-ass look on his face at being caught,” Dean rasps, imitating the face to Cas’ delight.

“Bet the guy told your asshole boyfriend his dick was magically delicious or some shit,” Castiel chokes out between laughs. He’s too intoxicated to think that the guy in front of him might not want to picture another guy talking about his boyfriend’s penis.

“Probably told him it was his lucky charm or something,” Dean jokes between his own breathless laughter.

“Those marshmallows are pretty tiny. The guy must’ve been disappointed,” Castiel remarks, which sends Dean into another round of hysterics before he wipes his eyes and takes another drink.

“Ah, shit,” Dean says, finally calming his breathing. “Shit, that was funny. Okay, so yeah, Tony the Tiger looks over at me with that dumb look, and he doesn’t even pull out of my boyfriend, just stares at me.”

Castiel purses his lips. “Rude.”

“Right? Then he says, ‘Hi!’ like I just came by to drop off cookies or somethin’. So I can’t fuckin’ believe it because one, there’s another dude in my bed, and two, my fuckin’ asshole boyfriend never lets me top, always said I was too pretty or some shit and he couldn’t do it, and there he is all spread out.”

Castiel tries to wrap his mind around how someone can be “too pretty” to bottom. It makes no sense, and it kind of pisses him off somehow. “Too pretty? What’s that even mean? What a fuckin’ asshole. Pounding should be equal opportunity! He shouldn’t always be the pounder!” he declares a bit indignantly with his fist in the air, his drunken state eliminating his usual filter. Dean doesn’t catch on that it’s an odd thing to say; he smiles and nods enthusiastically.

“Exactly! So I just stare at him and say, ‘What the fuck?’ and the guy looks at me and says, ‘Oh, sorry, you didn’t know I was coming over tonight?’ Like this is a regular fuckin’ occurrence! Turns out he told the dude we have an open relationship which hey, guess what, was news to me. So I fuckin’ turn around, cool as a cucumber, and left. I’ve been staying in the little apartment above here until I figure shit out.”

Cas looks at him with bleary but sympathetic eyes. “Wow, that sucks. At least I didn’t see my ex in the middle of it.”

“Yeah, so see? We’re like brothers in arms, man. Been in the same war.” He motions for the bartender and thanks the woman he calls Ellen, then clinks his bottle to Cas'. They drink quietly for a while.

“Heh, Quarter-Pounder,” Castiel eventually mumbles to himself.

“What?”

Castiel snickers slowly, with hazy eyes. “I was just thinking about how A.B. had to always be the pounder…”

“A.B.?”

“Asshole Boyfriend. So I was thinking about the pounder thing, and how he must be a really insecure asshole because he wouldn’t switch with you when you clearly wanted to, and how that must mean he has a tiiiiny dick, like a quarter of what most guys have. Quarter-Pounder.”

“That’s weird, dude,” Dean says, then starts chuckling. “Quarter-Pounder,” he mutters, then laughs as the name becomes funnier the more he says it. “You know what they call a Quarter-Pounder with cheese in Paris? They call it a Royale with cheese,” he slurs.

Castiel recognizes the lines from one of his brother Gabriel’s favorite movies and plays along. “A Royale with cheese. What do they call a Big Mac?”

“Le Big Mac,” Dean screeches, and they both bury their faces in their arms as they laugh, peeking at each other as their laughter dies down and reigniting when they see each other’s faces.

“Okay, you two, you’re scaring the customers,” Ellen the bartender says. She takes Dean’s right arm and Castiel’s left and leads them to a table in the back. She returns a minute later and tosses some nachos between them, along with two more beers and two glasses of water. “Sit. Eat. Try to control yourselves,” she barks, but her look is fond. “And no more alcohol after this.”

“Thanks, Auntie El!” Dean shouts loud enough for a few patrons nearby to hear. Her fond look turns to a glare as she squints her eyes at the man before walking away. Cas knows enough not to laugh until she’s out of earshot.

“She really your aunt?” he asks.

“Yeah. Well, not _really_ really, but yeah.”

They sit and eat the nachos for a while in a comfortable silence. Eventually, Dean smirks and leans toward Cas across the table. “So, did you really come here for a one-night stand?”

“Mmmhmm,” Cas answers, but with the crunchy chip he’s chewing he’s sure he doesn’t look sexy at all. He speaks around the chip in his mouth. “I mean I want another relationship eventually, but tonight I just came here looking for a good fuck. No strings, no awkward expectations, just a good time.”

“Fuckin’ right, man. That’s what I’m doin’ from now on. No muss, no fuss. I’m swearin’ off relationships. Too fuckin’ complicated, can’t trust anyone.” He takes another drink of his beer before eyeing Castiel. “So… you said you were trying to flirt with me? Want me in your bed for the night, Cas?” Dean asks. He’s still smirking but the arrogance looks fake; Castiel can see the self-doubt in his eyes. The question, though, is absurd. Why wouldn’t he want the gorgeous, delightful man? The question should be posed in reverse.

Cas lets his eyes rove blatantly over Dean. “Ohhhh yesss,” he purrs. “You’re no Quarter-Pounder, I can tell.” Dean throws his body back in a hearty laugh, and Castiel grins both at how he made him feel better and at how cute he is. _Great. First adorable, now cute._ He slumps down in the worn, hard-backed booth seat and watches the man across from him, the grin still adorning his face. When Dean stops laughing, he leans forward on his elbow and tucks his chin into his hand, watching Cas with a grin of his own that’s soft and genuine.

“Do _you_ want to, Dean? With me?” Castiel says after a few moments of staring. Dean nods with heat in his eyes, and they both throw some cash on the table to cover their bill and a tip. “Ah, shit,” Cas frowns as they stand up.

“What?”

Cas sits back down, shoulders slumped. “We really should be tested first. I wanna be fucked so well I remember it, but I don’t want any _lasting_ reminders, you know?” he says, thankful that he’s not so drunk as to have forgotten the potential risk to them both. “We were both cheated on, condoms break, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Oh yeah. Well fuck, that sucks,” Dean says, the wind out of his sails as he plops back into the booth. “I was lookin' forward to it.”

“Me too. Guess I’m gonna have to buy a toy to use ‘til I can get the real thing.” He looks Dean up and down and smiles.

“You, uh, still want to?” Dean asks uncertainly. “Like, do the one-night stand thing? With me? After we’re tested?”

The idea is a little strange to Castiel’s alcohol-soaked mind, but deep down Cas is nothing if not a little strange. “Sure, why not? It’ll benefit both of us, hmm? Besides, I’d have the same problem with anyone else. At least you were honest.”

“Won’t really help you tonight,” Dean notes.

“Meh, you know what? Talking with you took the edge off. Plus I’m probably too drunk to get it up anyway. And I’d rather remember it, especially with you, there, Green Eyes.” He winks slowly and points his finger like a gun at Dean, and the two of them giggle at Cas’ silly attempt at flirting.

“Alright, my future one-night stand… to the sex store!” Dean calls as he takes Castiel by the hand.

“To the sex store!” Cas repeats loudly.

Neither of them notice the stares and snickers of the bar patrons as they clatter out.


	2. Chapter 2

The “sex store” down the street is open late on Fridays, and the clerk at the register looks up from his comic book when the two men stumble in, bumping into each other as they try to squeeze through the door together. They giggle – God, he’s done so much _giggling_ with the _cute_ guy with the _adorable_ chin – and approach the counter, where an affable guy who identifies himself as Garth asks if he can help them.

“My one-night stand here needs a dildo with _prostate stimulating action_!” Dean states in a loud voice reminiscent of a TV announcer for one of those “As Seen on TV” products. He looks at Cas and punches his arm in the air several times and the men bend at the waists, laughing hysterically. Castiel remembers that, on the walk over, they were talking about what to buy at the shop and Dean compared the toy to another type of toy they played with in their childhoods (“Cas, you want something that’ll hit the spot, like Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots!”).

“Okie dokie! And for you?” Garth asks as he points to Dean.

“I like him, he says ‘okie dokie,’” Dean grins as he elbows Castiel, who grins back. He doesn’t answer Garth, who just shrugs.

Garth leads them to the correct section and leaves them to explore. Dean brings Cas several options and jokes that he was the model for a particularly large option. Castiel tells him he’d better be ready to prove it when the time comes, and Dean chuckles and returns the item to its place. Dean then wanders around the store for a bit, leaving Castiel to peruse the section alone. Castiel is overwhelmed by the selection - because there’s just that much to choose from or because he hasn’t shopped for a toy in a long time, he’s not sure. Once he makes his selection, Castiel goes to find Dean and spots him holding a pair of women’s underwear to his hips, examining them. Castiel smiles at the possibilities. He’d never thought he’d be into that, but on Dean… _yes, please_. He spies a pair that look especially promising.

“I think you should get these,” Castiel says, holding up a large, pink, satiny pair with black trim on a delicate hanger. Dean quickly throws the underwear behind him, looking embarrassed, which Castiel thinks is a shame. He continues on as if Dean isn’t blushing furiously. “Look. They zip right down the middle, front to back, and they have double zippers so you can unzip them completely or just one side or another. Convenient if you want to keep them on during sex.” Dean eyes him with a mix of wariness and hopefulness. “I’m buying them for you,” Cas decides. “What size would you be?”

“Um, I, uh…”

“Well, what size are you usually? This isn’t the first time you buy these, is it?” Castiel asks. As Dean stammers, Castiel vaguely remembers that A.B. used to say he was “too pretty” and wonders if Dean is ashamed and thinks he’s less of a man for liking them. Well, Castiel is going to convince him otherwise. “You know,” he purrs in Dean’s ear as he grips his shoulder to balance himself, “you would look fantastic pounding my ass in these panties.”

Dean closes his eyes and exhales slowly. “Extra large,” he whispers, and Castiel hums with self-satisfaction, squeezing Dean’s shoulder once before snatching the right size and making his way to the counter to check out.

“Find everything you were looking for?” the smiling Garth asks.

 _A new toy, a possible new kink, an incredible man…_ “Yes,” Castiel says, with Dean’s breathy “yeah” uttered just behind him.

“Awesome,” he grins. “Gotta say, I would not have guessed you guys were just one-timers. Most people don’t put this much effort into a one-time thing.”

“Not doing it tonight,” Dean says. “Gotta wait ‘til the tests come back negative.”

“Yes. This is just to tide us over,” Castiel explains further.

“Ohhh, so you’re _planning out_ the whole deal? Huh, never heard of that! Smart, though! $62.95, my friends,” he says, then accepts Castiel’s credit card. “Well, I hope it works out for y’all. You seem to get along real well.”

“Thanks,” the men say in unison.

Purchases in hand, they stumble out of the store and walk back to the Roadhouse. On the way, they pass by the bar where Castiel’s car is parked. He sighs.

“I can’t drive,” Castiel says. “Gotta call a cab.” He unlocks his phone and squints down at the screen, trying to remember how to use it.

“Don’t worry about it. You can stay with me,” Dean offers.

Castiel has a brief moment of panic. “That won’t count as our thing, though, right?” he asks.

“No! No, no. We got plans for that another time. Tonight, you can stay on the couch and… yeah. ‘Kay?”

“’Kay,” Castiel agrees.

They trudge up the narrow stairs, Dean catching him when he trips on one of the steps, and fall into Dean’s tiny studio apartment. There’s a kitchenette that has a small sink with a few dishes in it, a microwave, and a harvest yellow stove and refrigerator that look like they were modern in the 1970s. The bathroom, a basic sink/toilet/shower stall combo, sits to the left of the fridge. The living room has a lumpy couch and a wicker coffee table with a glass top. A flat-screen TV, clearly the newest thing in the apartment, sits above a microwave cart that holds an old VCR. A screen separates Dean’s bed from the rest of the living room.

“Cute,” Castiel says.

Dean scoffs. “It ain’t Buckingham Palace.”

“Most places aren’t,” he reassures the man. And Castiel should know. He’s lived in a lot of places.

Dean looks at him sideways and sighs. “True, Cas, true,” he acknowledges. As Castiel removes his coat and shoes, Dean dips behind the screen, returning a few seconds later with sweatpants and a t-shirt and telling him about the Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. Castiel thanks him and ducks into the bathroom. He swallows a couple of pills down, then brushes his teeth with his finger and leaks nearly half of what he drank tonight into the toilet. He washes his hands and changes, then heads into the living room, where Dean has laid out a few blankets and a throw pillow.

“Sorry, man, it’s not much,” Dean apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m grateful,” Castiel says as he slides under the covers and adjusts the pillow under his head. He never takes a soft surface or a pillow for granted, even if it’s a little, decorative one. “I slept in a pile of leaves once. Trust me, this is great.” He feels fatigue burning at his eyes as he snuggles down.

“I’d like to hear that story someday,” Dean smiles softly. It’s a beautiful smile. Castiel can’t imagine how anyone could betray this man. “Good night, Cas.”

“Night, Dean,” Castiel – _Cas_ – murmurs as sleep overtakes him.

Morning light burns behind cheap vinyl roller blinds, alerting Cas to the time of day but not blinding him with its cheery doggedness. He rises and stretches his arms to the sky. Rubbing at his day-old stubble, he shuffles to the bathroom and empties his bladder, then washes his hands and face before stepping out into the living room of a man he’s known for just a few short hours. Dean is his name, Cas remembers, and he’s beautiful. Or he was with the drunk goggles on. Cas feels slightly nauseous, given the amount of alcohol he drank, but he takes a few deep breaths and wills it away. He knows he won’t be going running today, though; no need to tempt fate. Instead, he maneuvers his body through several slow, easy yoga poses he learned as a youth from a yogi in India. He thinks about last night and smiles through each stretch.

“Hey there,” a deep baritone utters softly. Cas looks up from his pose and smiles.

“Hello Dean.”

“Mornin’, Cas,” he smiles in return and yes, he is just as beautiful, if not more. “Coffee?”

“Please,” he answers the tall, handsome, generous man who’s offered him so much already.

Dean ambles into the kitchenette and scoops some coffee grounds into the machine to brew. Cas follows, sitting at the tiny two-person table. “Uh, so usually I like to make actual food, but I don’t have any actual food,” Dean frowns. “I, uh, haven’t been all that concerned with eating. Eating equals downtime, and downtime equals thinking, you know?”

“I most certainly know,” Cas commiserates. “I was a mess for a while after the whole thing with my ex Daphne went down. I mean, we’d been having problems for a while but that? You just don’t expect somebody who’s told you they love you to betray you like that, even if you are having problems.” He shakes his head minutely as he remembers the betrayal once again. It doesn’t sting like it used to. Now he just feels insulted and disappointed in her.

“Yeah,” Dean says slowly. He’s quiet for a few moments, then startles Cas as he slams a mug down and bursts, “You know something, Cas? He never did tell me he loved me. We never said it. I kept waiting, but he never said it and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna say it if he didn’t. I just thought it was understood. Guess not. Probably should’ve been my first clue that things weren’t right between us.” He pours the coffee into mugs and carries them to the table, sliding one to Cas as he sits at the table with his own.

“Did you love him?” Cas asks, taking Dean’s hand on impulse. It feels warm and tense and slightly rough. Dean stares at their joined hands for a while, then meets Cas’ eyes. They’re glassy and bloodshot, which heightens the intensity of the green irises. He feels Dean relax into the hold.

“Thought I did,” Dean murmurs finally. “But I dunno. I knew him from my workplace; he was a customer, good guy, one of those casual friends, you know? One day he told me he was in a tough spot with his bills ‘cause, like I think I told you, his roommate bailed on him and I just wanted to help him out, so I moved in. We got closer and, well, one thing led to another, you know? By then I found out the ‘roommate’ was really his ex-boyfriend and there was a reason the guy bailed, but I believed my boyfriend over this other guy. Seems pretty stupid now.” Dean huffs at himself. “My brother says I don’t know the difference between being loved and being used. Don’t tell him, but he’s probably right.”

“I won’t tell him,” Cas promises as he presses Dean’s hand. “Have you had other relationships like that?”

Dean looks at the ceiling as he thinks. “Well, I had one where she mostly wanted me to help her take care of her kid, and another who just wanted me as ammunition against his family, like I was his sort of big gay ‘fuck you’ to them. I’ve had some messed up relationships. It’s why I usually don’t bother.”

Hearing Dean’s recounting of his terrible relationships breaks Cas’ heart. He doesn’t know the man well, but he’s met a lot of people and Dean seems to have a pure, trusting soul… which, unfortunately, some people see as a green light to take advantage of another person for their own gain. “Well, not all people are like that, Dean, I promise,” he says. “Some of us want long-lasting love with a partner who is our equal.”

Dean looks thoughtful for a moment before he teases Cas with, “Yeah… and some just want a good pounding.” Cas is mortified when he remembers how they met, and how it must’ve sounded to Dean. He tries to separate their hands, but Dean pulls Cas’ hand toward him and squeezes it affectionately.

“Oh, God,” Cas mutters, hiding his face in his free hand as Dean cackles. “That is so embarrassing now that I’m not drunk. And now I look like another asshole who was going to use you. God, I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Hey, hey, shut up, will ya?” Dean says with humor. “It’s not the same thing. We both understand what we’re getting into and it’s a mutually beneficial thing, alright? Besides, you were a cute drunk.” Dean pauses. “Hey, wait, ‘was’ going to use me? Does this mean you’re having second thoughts?”

The corners of Cas’ mouth twitch up as he removes his hand from his face. _As if I would have second thoughts!_ “You still want to be my one-night stand?” he asks shyly, peeking at Dean through long lashes.

“Absolutely. I mean, look at you. Who wouldn’t hit that?” he jokes with a twinkle in his eyes, ruffling Cas’ hair and then running a finger down his face to his chin and pressing into the cleft. Cas laughs and tries to ignore the thrill of being touched with such playful affection, and Dean laughs along with him before they stop and just watch each other. Cas thinks about how effortless it feels to be with this man he’s known less than twenty-four hours.

“Your eyes are very green,” Cas comments.

“Yours are very blue and bloodshot. You’re like a hungover American flag.”

Cas crinkles his nose. “That makes no sense.”

“I know,” he says, laughing at himself and he takes a sip of coffee.

“Yours look like Christmas. Red and green.”

“Well ho ho ho, I’ve got a gift for you when our tests come back,” Dean leers. A tune pops into Cas’ head and he giggles.

“What? You’re not making a guy feel good by laughing at him after some obvious sexual innuendo, Cas.”

“It’s my dick in a box!” Cas sings, remembering the _Saturday Night Live_ skit that always made him and his brother Gabriel laugh hysterically. Dean recognizes the tune and howls, slapping his leg. He grabs his laptop off the nearby half-wall.

“Okay, we gotta watch that now,” Dean demands as he pulls up YouTube. Dean counters Cas’ “It’s not even close to Christmas, Dean” with “You brought it up, Cas,” and soon they’re singing along to the Christmas-themed boy band parody. They watch several more suggested clips before Dean’s stomach growls, reminding them both they haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Dean suggests a diner that serves an incredible breakfast burrito, and they drive to the 50s-style restaurant in Dean’s old Impala. Cas gives the old beauty a respectful once-over; it’s clearly cared for. Dean seems pleased at the attention.

The diner serves cheap, greasy soul food and breakfast classics, and Cas adores it immediately. They make a perfect eggs Benedict, he discovers, and the burrito Dean orders looks just as good. He makes a mental note to order it the next time he comes here. Dean and Cas share an easy repartee, which Cas thinks is a nice plus even though their ultimate goal is a simple “wham, bam, thank you man” before going their separate ways. Cas learns about Dean’s work as a mechanic at a garage downtown and how he’s hoping to buy the business when the owner retires at the end of the year. Cas explains his work as a CPA and how he can’t wait to rest once Tax Day is behind him. They figure out that Cas’ firm is just down the street from Dean’s garage and laugh at the coincidence. They talk about their siblings (Sam sounds much more serious than either Gabe or Anna, who are both pretty wild) and parents (Dean’s sound normal, Cas’ not so much, a fact he downplays). When breakfast is over, Dean drives Cas to his car. He unlocks it and throws his coat on the seat, then tucks the dildo into his briefcase for safekeeping before turning to Dean.

“So, uh, the testing,” Dean says as he jangles his keys. “You wanna go together on Monday? There’s a clinic downtown. We could go during our lunch break.”

“Yes,” Cas replies confidently, leaving no doubt in his voice for Dean to misinterpret.

“Yeah? Awesome,” he grins, visibly relaxing and giving his key-jangling a rest. “I’ll, uh, meet you at your office at noon?”

“Sounds great, Dean.” Cas reaches out and squeezes Dean’s shoulder affectionately. “Let me give you my number just in case something comes up.” They trade numbers and say hesitant goodbyes. Cas wonders if he should kiss him - he’s not sure a protocol exists for interacting with a _future_ one-night stand - before he decides to keep things platonic. There will be time for that later. He offers him a smile and drives away quickly so he doesn’t have to watch Dean do the same.

At home, his brother Gabriel is lounging on his couch and eating his food.

“Make yourself at home,” Cas says sarcastically.

“Don’t mind if I do! So hey, where were you last night?” Gabriel asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“Trolling bars,” Cas answers as he sets down the briefcase that never made it into the house after work yesterday. The item he purchased last night thunks against the interior. He reminds himself to remove it once he’s away from his sibling’s prying eyes.

“Sure you were. No, where were you, really?”

Cas raises a sardonic eyebrow.

“Seriously? You were out trolling bars? Oh, you little Casanova! Did you meet someone? Was she or he hot? Come on, don’t hold out on me!”

“I don’t see why it’s your business,” Cas says as he sighs. His family could be such meddlers. Thankfully, they had good intentions, generally.

“It’s not, but that’s never stopped me, you know that. Plus I tell you everything. So, spill!”

“I don’t ask you to tell me anything,” Cas replies as he rolls his eyes. “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“C.J.…”

Irritated, Cas says, “He’s hot and nothing happened. Nothing like that.”

“Why not? If anyone needs to get laid, it’s you.”

“You’re too kind, Gabe. Really.” He shakes his head as he wanders into his bedroom to change into fresh clothing. “We decided to postpone our one-night stand until we both test clean.”

Gabriel follows him. “You what now?” he asks.

“I’m not sure how I could say it more clearly.”

Gabe rolls his eyes and folds his arms as Cas pulls off his shirt. “Dude, the whole point of a one-night stand is to be spontaneous and give in to your carnal desires. You don’t _plan_ a one-nighter.”

“Well, we are,” Cas says with an air of finality. He strips off his pants.

“How do you even know he’s gonna get tested?”

“We’re going together on Monday.”

Gabe raises his eyebrows. “You’re going together. Well, aren’t you two the epitome of mature, sexually responsible, modern men,” he says with both sarcasm and pride.

“Yes, thank you,” Cas says as he peels off his socks, leaving him only in his boxers. He ambles toward the bathroom to take a shower.

“Does your future husband have a name?” his brother asks, holding a hand to the bathroom door to keep Cas from closing it.

“It’s Dean,” Cas answers, “and one night of sex isn’t going to make him my husband. Go away.” Forcing the door closed, Cas lets his boxers pool onto the floor. He starts the water and steps into the hot, pulsing shower. He lets himself imagine what that one night with sweet, smiling, sexy Dean will be like. He can’t wait for Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To learn about the rest of Dean’s weekend after they part ways in the morning, see this story’s companion fic, “The Agreement”:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479
> 
> Referenced in this chapter:  
> “Dick in a Box” skit from Saturday Night Live - if you haven’t seen this yet, look it up on YouTube. Funny stuff.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel’s been at Milton and Associates, his CPA firm, since 6:30 in the morning, but he’s still humming an upbeat tune as he grooves his way around the breakroom when his administrative assistant Jo arrives at 8:00.

“Wow, you’re in quite the mood, Castiel,” she giggles, startling him. He gives her a sheepish smile and shrugs, then resumes his humming (though drops the dancing) and rinses out two mugs as the coffee brews. “Good weekend?”

“Yes. How about you?”

“Not as good as yours, clearly,” she grins.

“Too bad,” he grins back playfully. Her mouth and eyebrows quirk up at his banter and he isn’t surprised. He isn’t particularly playful at work, especially this time of the year. It’s not that he doesn’t like his work or her. It’s just that he fell into a sort of rut and became rather “booooring,” as Gabe puts it. He can’t disagree. He’d been quite unhappy in his marriage and the muck of the divorce the last couple of years, and had a good deal of latent unhappiness before that, which he only realized afterward. Jo’s only known him for a few months. She’s never seen him as happy as he’s feeling this morning. He can’t wait to see Dean again, even if that anticipation is laced with anxiety. Will Dean change his mind now that the weekend is over? He pushes it out of his mind. Whatever will be, will be. He pours them both coffee, then raises his in a quick goodbye as he turns away.

“Don’t forget to eat lunch today, Castiel,” she chides to his back. “11:30!” He waves in acknowledgement before turning the corner. He’s been so busy lately that lunch (and sometimes supper) has taken a backseat to work. Not that it matters. He manages to live on coffee most days and, besides, lunch is rather dull when you eat alone.

Castiel closes himself up in his office and digs into a large, rather complicated account. He doesn’t notice the time flying by until he receives a text:

_To Cas 11:55am: Sorry, I’m going to be late. I’m behind on some work. Meet you as soon as I can._

Well, at least he’s not backing out. Cas is grateful for Dean’s thoughtfulness.

_To Dean 11:57am: Not a problem. I’m very busy as well._

_To Cas 11:58am: Sorry. Do you want to reschedule?_

_God, no_ , Cas thinks as he answers:

_To Dean 11:58am: No. ;)_

_To Cas 12:00pm: Good to hear. ;) See you in a bit._

Cas smiles at his phone before resuming his work.

Noon becomes 1:30 by the time Castiel’s intercom alerts him to a visitor. He lets Jo know that he’ll be out shortly, then saves his work on his computer and closes up the files on his desk. He feels a little lightheaded as he walks toward the door, having survived the morning only on coffee and willpower. He hears laughter on the other side of his door, and opens it to see Dean perched on Jo's desk. He quickly squelches the tiny flare of jealousy; he has no right to be jealous.

“Eat this, you idiot,” Jo says as she stands up from her desk and hands him a sandwich she must’ve picked up at the deli. “You’re not dropping dead on my watch. You were supposed to come out for this at 11:30.” She’s a bold person, but not usually quite so bold with him. He chalks it up to their earlier interaction and isn’t fazed by it; in fact, he finds it rather endearing.

“Thank you,” he mumbles through a large bite. He waves at Dean, realizing he looks less than appealing as he scarfs down a turkey on wheat, but he’s too hungry to care. Dean grins at him with mirth.

“So hey, you didn’t tell me you know Dean!” Jo accuses as she swats Castiel. He looks between them, confused.

“Jo’s mother is Ellen, from the Roadhouse,” Dean explains, quickly widening his eyes. _Oh_. Cas realizes this could be awkward.

“Oh. Oh! Um, well, I do,” he shrugs. “How do you know each other, Jo?”

“Dean’s my cousin. Well, not really, but we kind of grew up that way. Our parents are friends.”

 _That explains the closeness._ Castiel lets out a subtle, relieved breath. “Oh, well, that’s great. I’m glad you could reconnect. Dean? Shall we?” Cas attempts to hurry out the door, but Jo stops him. She looks suspicious.

“Wait! When are you going to be back? I don’t see anything in your calendar.”

“Shouldn’t be long.” He tries to hurry out again.

“Wait! Don’t you want to bring your briefcase? Dean said he wanted to ask you a couple of questions before he files. Shouldn’t you bring his paperwork?”

“Yes, of course. What would I do without you?” Cas smiles, wider than necessary. He ducks into his office and swipes the briefcase, passing it quickly to his other hand so he can close the door behind him. He doesn’t quite catch it and it lands hard on the floor, popping open.

It seems like slow motion after that. Cas’ eyes widen as he sees the object he forgot to take out of his briefcase pop up and slip out of the nondescript white plastic Garth had bagged it in. Cas starts for the toy. At the same time, Dean dives down and covers everything with his body, blocking Jo’s view of the incriminating and embarrassing evidence of Cas’ weekend. Jo watches in utter confusion.

“Here, let me get this stuff for you,” Dean says hastily as he gathers everything to his chest, keeping his back to Jo. “Cas, you wanna open your office door there? You probably wanna put these things back neatly, huh?”

“Yes! Yes, certainly,” he says loudly, beckoning Dean inside. “We’ll be right out, Jo.”

Slamming and locking the door behind him in the quiet office, Cas glances at Dean, who’s still holding crumpled tax papers and a sex toy in his arms. The juxtaposition and their close call strike Cas as hilarious, and when Dean looks back, they break down in laughter.

“Well I guess I know what you didn’t try this weekend, Cas,” he whispers so Jo can’t hear. He drops the papers and the toy on Castiel’s desk.

“You don’t know that. Maybe I was so happy with the results I couldn’t be parted from it,” Cas says, deadpan. After evaluating him for a moment, Dean cackles and Cas chuckles.

“Wow, now I wanna try it,” he jokes. Cas comments that they could arrange that, and Dean responds that they’re going to have a lot to fit into one night.

“We should head over,” Cas says at the reminder. He tucks the toy into the deep pocket of his trench coat, then gathers his briefcase and phone and guides Dean out of the office.

“Bye Dean! Bye _Cas_ ,” she says, emphasizing the nickname she’s never called him before. Dean must have said it when he was speaking to her. A happy nervousness wells in his chest as he raises a hand in a wave as they depart.

The walk to the clinic is pleasant, made so by the company as much as the sunny spring weather. Cas praises him on his story about coming in to discuss his taxes, and Dean shrugs and says it was the best thing he could think of at the time. He actually does ask him a few tax questions related to small businesses, and they chat amiably. The clinic is quiet when they walk in, only a couple of young women on their phones in the waiting area, and they are told they can be seen soon. They both amuse and impress the nurse when they explain that they are there to plan for their eventual evening of sex. After counseling and blood work, they are released back into the temperate day and walk back to Cas’ office, a little more quietly than before.

“So, what now?” Dean asks eventually, a bit hesitantly. Cas has a long workday ahead of him and doesn’t catch the meaning behind the question.

“Back to my drudgery, I suppose. I’ll probably be staring at documents until ten o’clock tonight. Tax Day is approaching quickly.” He sighs.

Dean glances at him and smiles before staring at his feet as they walk. “Sorry. I meant now that we’ve done the testing.”

 _Oh shit. Well, that’s embarrassing. He doesn’t care about your day, dumbass. Hookup, remember?_ “Oh! Well, I guess we wait until we get our letters, and then we show each other, and, well, we have amazing sex.” He smiles cheekily at Dean, who returns his smile and nods.

“Okay, yeah, sounds good. Hey, did I show you those videos of the guy who trades faces with his kids when you were over on Saturday morning?” Castiel shakes his head, and Dean offers to text him the links later on. Cas agrees, secretly delighted to have another excuse to have contact with Dean. He smiles as he enters his building.

_To Cas 4:25pm: [2 videos]_

_To Dean 4:47pm: I’m shocked you can send videos on your ancient phone. Those are hilarious. It would be fun to have that kind of talent with video editing._

_To Cas 4:49pm: Stop making fun of my phone! It was very advanced for its time!_

_To Cas 4:50pm: My friend Charlie is a whiz at video editing. She’s a computer genius. That’s not even an exaggeration._

_To Dean 4:54pm: An enviable talent._

_To Dean 4:58pm: I hope you are leaving work soon?_

_To Cas 4:59pm: Yeah in a few minutes_

_To Dean 5:02pm: Enjoy your evening._

_To Cas 5:02pm: You too_

_To Dean 5:03pm: Not likely, but thank you._

_To Cas 5:05pm: Oh yeah, you’re working. At least make sure you eat something._

_To Dean 5:10pm: Eventually, perhaps. Good night._

Cas is absorbed in deductions and credits when he hears a knock on the door. He’s surprised to see Dean, holding up a bag and looking quite determined.

“Okay, so sex with you ain’t gonna be fun if you’re a corpse. You’ve gotta eat,” Dean chides gently as he sets up their meals on the small, round meeting table in Cas’ office. _He brought me supper?_ Cas feels a flutter in his belly that he’d like to pass off as hunger, but he would be lying.

“What, you’re not into that?” Cas jokes with a wink, keeping the butterflies from saying something sappy and stupid.

“Your wink is much better when you’re not drunk off your ass. Your jokes, not so much,” Dean teases. Cas chuckles and steps away from his desk and into one of the cloth-covered chairs. They talk for a while as they munch on juicy bacon cheeseburgers and soggy, salty fries. Cas tells Dean stories about the strangest things people ever tried to claim on their taxes, and Dean tells him about the body work he had to do that morning on a 2009 Saab because the guy’s kid hit a bank of mailboxes when he was texting while driving.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says an hour later, feeling satisfied in both body and soul as he walks Dean out. “I don’t always take time to eat when I’m this busy.”

“Well, thanks for putting up with me,” Dean jokes. There’s a sadness and uncertainty there that Cas doesn’t like. He squints playfully and tilts his head to the side, folding his arms and smirking at him.

“Are you mixing up ‘putting out’ with ‘putting up’ again?” Cas jests in return. “Because I’m not ‘putting up’ with you. I enjoy you. But I will be putting out for you.”

Dean grins and the sadness abates. “I think you just enjoy my smokin’ body.”

“Well, I _plan_ to enjoy that,” Cas smirks as he leans up against the doorframe. “But for now I’ll have to settle for your kindness, compassion, and sense of humor. Woe is me.”

Dean chuckles and tucks his hands into his pockets. A faint blush colors the tips of his ears. “Good night, Cas.”

Cas feels the old, welcome heat of desire spark in his chest, as well as another sort of warmth he doesn’t analyze too closely. “Good night, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an example of one of the videos to which Dean refers (Queen Baby: Food Critic), go to https://youtu.be/5xR3BCmGveU


	4. Chapter 4

Cas stares out the window at the treetops, spring-green buds dotting their branches. They remind him of another shade of green, and he sighs. He wants to reach out to Dean again, but isn’t sure he should. It’s just a one-night stand they have planned, after all. No complications, no strings. Right? Still, Dean did bring him supper last night. The thoughtfulness of his gesture hasn’t loosened itself from Cas’ psyche. Or his heart.

Jo sticks her head in the doorway, breaking his trance. “You’re getting out of the office and eating lunch today,” Jo says, brooking no argument. “And you can’t come back until you do. You’re working too hard, Castiel.”

“I thought you were calling me Cas now, Ms. Harvelle?” he teases gently.

“Sorry about that,” she says, biting her lip and looking at the floor.

“It’s okay, Jo. I’m not mad, and I don’t mind.” She looks up and smiles, then points a finger at him.

“Lunch, Cas,” she says before ducking away.

He thinks about Dean again and picks up his phone, muttering “What the hell” as he texts:

_To Dean 11:45am: May I bring you lunch as a thank you for your generosity and thoughtfulness last night?_

_To Cas 11:47am: You don’t have to do that._

Cas wonders if that’s Dean’s way of brushing him off, but he continues anyway.

_To Dean 11:48am: I know, but I would like to. Besides, Jo has informed me that I cannot return to the office until I eat lunch._

_To Cas 11:50am: Well, then, by all means, come on over._

He does, and after that it becomes their thing. For nearly two weeks the future sexual partners trade text messages. Sometimes Dean brings Cas supper when he’s working late. Sometimes they bring each other lunch. The time passes quite pleasantly, and Cas almost forgets their agreement. Almost.

Arriving home on a rainy Thursday evening, he checks the mail and sees a white envelope with the clinic’s return address. He rips it open with his finger and glances over the results. He’s clean. He thought he would be, since sex had dropped off to nothing toward the end of the marriage, but he’s relieved all the same. He calls Dean.

“Have you checked your mail for your test results?” he asks.

“Nah, not yet,” he mumbles, sounding like he’s eating something. His voice clears up as he says, “Had the results sent to my brother’s.”

“Let me know when you have a chance to get over there. I got mine.”

“And?”

“Clean,” Cas announces happily. He snaps a photo of himself smiling next to the results and sends it to Dean as proof. He doesn’t want Dean to have any reason to doubt him after his ex’s betrayal of trust.

“That’s awesome, Cas! I’ll go check my mail tomorrow!” He sounds excited, and Castiel is absolutely giddy. They chat for a few minutes, then Cas spends a pleasant evening thinking about a future pleasant evening.

The following morning, Cas receives a text very early:

_To Cas 6:55am: Letter says I have to call for results_

Odd. He didn’t have to call for his. He frowns and shrugs to himself before he heads out to work. The next text, received just after he’s sent some files to Jo for printing and mailing, is more disturbing.

_To Cas 9:25am: Fucking asshole_

Alarmed, Cas calls Dean immediately. He can hear the strain in Dean’s voice when he answers. As soon as he says Dean’s name, the floodgates open and for a few minutes, he murmurs assurances quietly as Dean sobs. Finally, Dean speaks.

“He gave me a fucking STD, Cas! God, what the fuck!”

“Okay, Dean, okay,” Cas soothes. He feels devastated for him, this sweet, kind man who’s already been through so much. “Are you at home? At the Roadhouse?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says between hiccupped breaths. Cas doesn’t think twice.

“Okay, I’ll be right over.” He hangs up before Dean can refuse. He leaves his office quickly and tells Jo he’s taking the rest of the day as a personal day, then scurries out without answering any of her follow-up questions. The entire ride to his apartment, he thinks about how he can comfort Dean. He doesn’t deserve any of this, but Cas guesses he will blame himself for it. Cas chokes down the fury he feels toward Dean’s ex. It won’t help Dean if Cas is pissed off. _Asshole_ , Cas thinks about the cheating liar before he takes some deep breaths to calm himself.

He arrives and knocks on the door, and it opens to Dean’s tear-streaked face. Cas gathers him into a hug without thinking, smoothing down his hair as he sways him back and forth, and Dean melts into him. Eventually they part, and Cas finds a glass and fills it with water from the tap. He sits down on the couch next to him and touches their knees together as he hands him the glass. Dean empties it in several swallows and places it on the coffee table. He takes a few deep breaths.

“Gonorrhea,” Dean starts. “Even the name sounds gross. They said I probably got it during oral ‘cause I made him use condoms for anal. Fuck, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Dean,” Cas says, his anger for this unknown ex-boyfriend creeping into his voice. “You believed you were in a monogamous relationship.”

“Then I’m stupid for believing that.”

He understands the self-flagellation, having once thought he was in a monogamous relationship, too, but he won’t let him continue it. “You had no reason not to. You were living together, he never told you that he had other partners, and you knew you didn’t have any. If I was in your shoes, I would’ve believed I was in a monogamous relationship, too.”

“But…”

Cas takes his hand. “Dean, we can’t constantly expect that others will betray us. If we believed that we would be in a constant state of paranoia, which is unhealthy. Besides, most of the time it’s simply not true. Most people are not out to harm us. That’s why it’s so shocking when people do, because most of the time people don’t, at least not intentionally.”

Dean squeezes his hand as a fresh wave of tears erupts from his eyes. “I’m sorry for roping you into this fucked-up mess,” he sobs. _So much self-blame._

“You didn’t,” Cas reassures him. “I’m here willingly. And hey, gonorrhea can be treated with antibiotics, right?” he adds casually.

Dean sniffs. “Yeah.”

“Okay, so in ten days, after you’re done your meds, get another test. I can get another one, too, if it'll make you feel better. When everything comes back clean, we’ll be right back to our plan. Okay?” He reaches his free hand to Dean’s face and gently turns it toward him. “Okay?”

“Yeah?” Dean replies, a tiny smile curving his lips as Cas nods. He leans into Cas’ palm and Cas feels the trust grow between them as he allows himself to relax and believe in what Cas is saying. “You’re the most laid-back future one-night stand I’ve ever met, Cas.”

Cas feels the need to lighten the mood and Dean’s guilt. “You can thank me when I’m laying back for you in a few weeks,” Cas winks, and Dean’s bright, genuine smile and tiny huff of amusement are all that Cas had hoped for.

Cas goes with Dean to the pharmacy to pick up his meds. As they’re leaving the pharmacy, Dean stops in the foyer and says, “Fuck, I’ve gotta call him, don’t I?”

“If only for the sake of his other partners, yes.” Cas hesitates, not sure if he should offer what he’s thinking of offering, if it will be seen as too forward or presumptuous when they are really just sexual partners on-hold. He decides to go for it. “I can sit in the room with you while you call him, if you want.”

“You don’t mind?” His eyes express worry, hope, and gratitude.

“Of course not.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, that would be great.”

The rain that has been falling since last night soaks them as they run to the car and Dean hurries to unlock it. They slide in and sit in easy silence as Dean drives the short distance back to the Roadhouse.

“Fuck, I really don't want to do this,” Dean mutters after they've dried off and seated themselves on the couch.

“Rip off the Band-Aid, Dean, that's all you can do,” Cas says. He can’t imagine having to make this kind of phone call to his ex. Having to talk to her in mediation when she was making up lies and trying to rob him blind was enough. He’s grateful he had a great lawyer.

“Right, right. Okay.” He shakily finds A.B.'s contact in his phone. Cas tries not to pry, but he thinks he catches the name and his stomach lurches. When Cas hears the man over the speaker, his suspicions are confirmed and it’s all he can do not to vomit or strangle him through the phone. He’s completely unsurprised that this guy gave Dean gonorrhea. He clenches and unclenches his fists as he listens, trying to calm himself and be here for Dean.

“Dean! Darlin', where've you been?” the voice on the phone asks.

“You gave me a fucking STD, Benny,” Dean growls.

“What? Can't be me, darlin'. I don't have anything.”

“It was you. Couldn't have been anyone else. You probably just don't have symptoms. I didn't.”

“Aw, baby, everything's fine. I forgive you. Come home.”

“Forgive me?”

“I know you were upset when you left and you probably went out and got with someone. It's okay. I'm willing to overlook it on account of you being upset at our misunderstanding. Just get some medicine and take care of it, alright? Everything will be fine.”

Castiel is dumbfounded over what he is hearing, and yet from his encounters with the man it's not surprising at all.

“Kiss my ass, Benny.”

“I'm gonna fuck that sweet ass as soon as you get it back home,” he drawls. Anger rises like an ocean swell in Castiel, and it only multiplies as he meets Dean's eyes, which look defeated and ashamed. Cas hasn't known him long, but he knows he's blaming himself once again for this mess. Cas shoots a scornful look at Dean’s phone, then reaches over and squeezes his fingers. The action seems to give Dean new resolve.

“Yeah, no thanks,” Dean comments. “My sweet ass isn't for you anymore. We're done.” Dean smiles up at Cas, a bit of pride in his eyes, and Cas throws up a fist in victory and then gives the phone the middle finger. Dean laughs silently, and neither one is listening to whatever Benny is sputtering. They make faces and rude gestures at Dean’s phone until the asshole finally gets Dean’s attention again.

“Yeah, well, you still live here, so you owe me your half of the bills,” Benny growls. Dean frowns, and Cas mouths, “Name on lease?” to which Dean shakes his head and Cas shrugs with his shoulders and hands. In Cas’ view, he owes this guy nothing. Dean seems to understand.

“Technically, I don't live there,” Dean says with a smile in his voice. “So nope, I owe you nothing. I'll stop by while you’re out to pick up my shit.”

“We're not done here, baby,” Benny warns.

“We are. Tell your partners to get tested,” Dean says before punching off. Cas smiles in delight and raises his hand for a high five, which Dean returns.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says sincerely. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I think you could have,” Cas says with confidence. “But I’m glad to help.”

Dean looks at the time and frowns. “Don’t you have to be at work?”

“Nope,” Cas says as he sits back on the couch, hands behind his head. “Lunch?”

They spend the day eating carton after carton of Chinese food and watching _Friends_ reruns. When Cas leaves, Dean seems to be in good spirits and says he's going to relax with a book for the rest of the night. Cas goes home to do the same.

On Saturday morning, Cas receives a text:

_To Cas 9:25am: I fucking hate him so much_

_To Dean 9:28am: I know. I would, too._

_To Cas 9:30am: I hate myself more because there's a part of me that maybe still has feelings for him. Why? It’s so fucked up_

Cas pauses. He thinks he understands, maybe. When Daphne cheated on him, it was the nail in the coffin of a long-dying relationship. They were practically strangers by then. Still, even after everything, even though he knew he wanted the relationship to be over, he had some leftover feelings: regret, wistfulness, doubt. They were the feelings of a person with a lot of love to give, a person who'd vowed in good faith to spend the rest of his life with his partner, a person who wanted to make sure he'd done everything in his power to save the relationship.

_To Dean 9:31am: Can I call you?_

Dean agrees, and Cas calls. “Let me tell you a story,” Cas says gently by way of greeting. Cas tells him the entire story of Daphne and Castiel: their meeting, their attraction, the early times, the downward spiral. He tells him about how things were good at first, and about how she seemed like just the sort of calm, stable, “normal” person he thought he wanted to balance out the sense of “weirdness” he’d felt about himself for several years. He tells him about how, as their relationship grew and he matured past the insecurities of his youth, he thought he could maybe be himself with her, weirdness and all, and how things changed after that. He tells him about her dislike of his family’s “influence” and her insecurity regarding Cas' bisexuality, and about her insistence that they not do anything even remotely “wild” or unconventional. She wanted him to be steady and predictable, a good soldier who went to work and came home and didn't try anything out of the ordinary in the bedroom or outside of it. He admits that he essentially subjugated himself to her fears and grew farther away from himself. He explains the leftover feelings about the relationship that he had and how he eventually learned he wasn’t having those feelings because he still loved her — because in reality they had grown far apart — but because he is a loving person, a person who wanted to make sure he'd done everything in his power to save the relationship he’d vowed to uphold, and he felt like he failed to do that.

Cas hears Dean relax as he talks, and soon the man opens up about his relationship with Benny, which confirms Cas' suspicions that it was unhealthy for Dean. They started having sex fairly quickly after becoming roommates, but Benny wouldn’t let him top because he was “too pretty to do all the work.” Cas’ stomach turns at the thought. Dean admits he got absorbed by Benny because he loved the praise and attention he gave at the beginning but that, after just a few weeks, he started to feel like Cinderella. Benny paid less and less attention to him, but didn’t want him to go out with his friends or family because he wanted him home when he got there, despite his odd work hours. Dean explains sheepishly to Cas that when he tried to advocate for himself - to suggest they share chores or to request they switch during sex - he was shot down by one of Benny’s many excuses. Cas shakes his head even though Dean can’t see him. Whereas Daphne was fearful and insecure, Benny seemed controlling. From what Cas knows of him - which isn’t much, but it’s enough - he is a man who only looks out for himself.

“He was more than happy to have me live with him and pay bills and do chores and bottom, but anything else was just a fight,” Dean says, interrupting Cas’ thoughts. Cas hears him release a slow breath. “I was so stupid, Cas. I thought he wasn’t paying attention to me and demanding all this stuff because he was working so hard, but you know what? If I’d been important to him, he would’ve made time for me. We could’ve had lunch together or he could’ve taken a Friday or Saturday night off work once in a while, at least, but he said he couldn’t. Managed to make time for Tony the Tiger, though.” Cas, who’s been listening and interrupting with the occasional grunt or hum of acknowledgement, sighs to himself, knowing he has some bad news to break.

“Hey, Dean? I think I should tell you something.” Dean urges him to go on, and Cas admits that he knows who A.B. is (Cas is even more inclined to call him by the derogatory initials now). He tells him that he is well-known at his sister Anna's dance club as a sleazebag who will hit on anything that moves.

“Great,” Dean says resignedly.

“That’s… not all,” Cas continues cautiously. He hates having to tell him this, but he wants to be honest. “Sometimes on Fridays and Saturdays I bartend or whatever Anna needs help with, just because she’s still trying to get the club off the ground. On many occasions, he’s hit on me. He is extremely persistent. Nothing ever happened between us and nothing ever would, I promise you. I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Dean is horrified, and tells Cas what Cas already suspected: that his ex always told him that he was working late on Friday and Saturday nights (and sometimes Thursday and Sunday nights, too) and Dean never questioned it.

“He, uh, has a nickname at the club,” Cas adds. “It's, uh, V.D.”

“As in Venereal Disease?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Fuck,” Dean says, but he's laughing, albeit humorlessly. “Figures.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Nope. You know what? I’ve been thinking that I was at fault for what happened, but you know? I'm feeling all that doubt about my faults in the relationship fading away,” Dean says, even though his voice is tight with tears and the feeling of betrayal. “Fuck him.”

“Fuck him, Dean,” Cas echoes, his own voice tight with continued anger at the man who hurt Dean.

A few hours after their call ends, Cas has an idea. It’s a good one and he thinks it would really help Dean, but he isn’t sure how Dean will react. Knowing he’s taking a chance that may backfire, he decides to throw caution to the wind. He preps himself and his car, then drives to Dean’s apartment over the Roadhouse. Dean answers the door in sweatpants and a stained t-shirt, his hair ruffled and his eyes blinking awake.

“Do you trust me, one person who’s been screwed over by a partner to another, to surprise you with something I think will help?” Cas asks seriously. Dean stares at him for a moment. “You can say no and I won’t be offended,” Cas promises. “You have the choice.” He smiles gently at Dean, which seems to be the tipping point. Dean nods.

“I’m game,” he says. Cas is thrilled at the trust Dean places in him. He hopes Dean knows that he would never hurt him.

“Sure you don’t mind surprises?”

“Not if they’re good ones.”

“Okay. Great. I really do think you’ll like this. I hope so,” he says, glancing shyly at his feet before he turns back to Dean. “May I come in? I come bearing supper.” He reaches to his side, where he’d tucked away the bag he brought. Dean opens the door wide, his smile broadening. Cas thanks him and enters, handing him the bag. While Dean sets the items out on the table, he digs his phone out of his pocket. He had texted Jo earlier to ask if she would do him a favor if Dean agreed, and she said yes, so now he sends a quick text to her with his request. Her answer is rapid:

_To Cas 5:37pm: Yes! Awesome! I will totally do that for you!!_

Cas smiles at his phone, then looks up at Dean. “Okay, so I’d like to take you to Anna's tonight,” Cas says. “I just texted Jo, and she is going to gather a bunch of your friends, and you are going to have a good time with your friends tonight like you deserve.” He pats Dean on the chest, then seats himself at the small table, where the steak salads he made are set out. “You'll need clothes and shoes you don't mind getting dirty, white if you have them. We'll take my car. I already have trash bags on the seats.”

“What the fuck are we doing?”

“You'll see. Let's eat and then you can change.”

As they eat, Dean sits thoughtfully, staring at Cas every so often and then turning away quickly. Cas waits him out. “Um, hey, so you said Benny goes there most weekends?” Dean asks. “What if he shows up there tonight?”

Cas thinks for a moment. “Well, we can play it one of two ways. You can go and let him see you having a good time with your friends, or if you think he'll stay put, you can text him and tell him you're going to swing by later and make him wait at the apartment all night.” Cas grins devilishly, and Dean’s entire demeanor brightens.

“Think I'll go with the second one. I don't want him to ruin my night, but I’d sure as hell like to ruin his.” They grin at each other.

Cas brings Dean to Anna's club, Nightingale. They bypass the long line in the front and enter through the side entrance. Cas hopes that Dean will enjoy the surprise. It's a popular night and always a lot of fun. When Jo texts Cas that they're all there, he directs them to the side and lets them in. Dean seems pleasantly surprised to see not just Jo, but many other friends as well. They crowd around him and give him hugs and kisses that he returns with a bit of extra vigor. Dean introduces Charlie, Max, Sarah, Sam, and Jess, and they easily accept Cas as part of the gang. Cas is sad that he won't really have the chance to spend much time with them since Dean and Cas will be parting once they have their tryst, but he can enjoy it for now and he's happy he could help Dean. In turn, Cas introduces the group to his sister Anna, his brother Gabe, and his friends Hannah, Zeke, and Zar, who accept Dean and his friends into their fold just as easily, his brother briefly giving Dean a once-over in some big brother intimidation tactic. Once everyone seems comfortable with each other, Cas explains that they are attending a Paint Party, which is basically adults drinking and throwing paint at each other to dance tunes. Dean looks a little doubtful at just how much fun this could be, but he smiles anyway.

Gabe is the DJ for the event tonight, and like the rest of Cas' family, he's freewheeling, enthusiastic, and a little bawdy. He engages the crowd easily and gets people on the dance floor quickly. He explains the rules of the evening and lets loose with the first blast of paint of the night. The people cheer and jump as he plays an upbeat tune and they start to target each other with their paint bottles.

All of Dean's and Cas' friends mesh perfectly as they have a couple of drinks and spray each other and strangers with neon colors as they dance. Dean seems to get lost in the music and in the freedom and joy of being with his friends. He seems so happy to be with them, and they seem just as happy to have him back. Women and men alike flirt with him, and he smiles that broad, bright grin that lights up his whole face. A peculiar mix of joy and melancholy settles over Cas and, after a few songs, Cas decides to take a break, not bothering to tell anyone since he wants to be alone anyway. Usually he would just go into Anna's office, but he's covered with paint so he settles for a drink in a dark corner. The charm of that disappears quickly when he realizes he's not going to be left alone to his thoughts. He is approached by several people and is either chatted up or hit upon, and he's in the mood for neither at the moment. He needs a few minutes to collect his thoughts. He moves toward the exit and asks the bouncer, Uriel, to let him back in when he knocks, then he steps out the side door into the cool April night.

Cas leans against the wall and stares at nothing, which is his favorite way to think. It's stupid, really, to be unsettled by all of this. He brought Dean here to have a good time, and he's having a good time, so what's the problem? There is no problem. He's an attractive man and people are noticing him, and that’s fine. Dean doesn't belong to him. They're not friends, they're not lovers, they're not... anything to each other, really. The man with the autumn hair and spring eyes is just a way for him to work out the sexual tension that's been boiling in his dick for months. Years. Whatever. So why has he been texting him? Why have they been spending time together? Why does he care? Cas ponders what he knows about himself and comes to a couple of conclusions: one, he doesn't want Dean to lose interest in having a one-night stand with him because Cas is boring and Dean is gorgeous and sexy and funny and just nice and... and two, Cas just genuinely cares about people and Dean got screwed by V.D., A.B., Quarter-Pounder, whatever his name is. So maybe he just gets attached to people, that's all. Or just Dean. And that's his problem, not Dean's, so he needs to stop being childish and get his head in the game. This thing between them – this future thing – is supposed to be fun, carefree, no strings attached. Dean doesn’t want a relationship. All Cas has to do is remember that.

“Cas?” Dean calls as he comes around the corner. “There you are. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just taking a break.” He forces himself out of his doldrums and smiles. “How's it going?”

Dean shakes his head and smiles shyly, pausing to collect his thoughts before looking up at Cas. “It's been so great,” he says finally. “I didn't realize how much I missed them. And your friends and family are great, too, Cas.” Cas smiles softly at Dean and nods. “Uh,” Dean says, “what do I tell them about us? They've been asking and I chickened out and told them to ask you.”

Cas chuckles and shrugs. “The truth? My brother already knows. My sister and friends will be surprised, but they won't look down on me for it. What do you want to tell your friends?”

“The truth is cool,” Dean says after a moment. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Guess we should go back and face the firing squad, hmm?”

When Cas and Dean return, their friends are gathered around a tiny table taking shots. They pounce on the pair as soon as Jess beats everyone by getting her three shots down the fastest.

“So what's the deal with you two, hmm?” Charlie asks with wiggling brows.

“Ah, well, we are... oh shit,” Cas starts as he looks at Jo, his employee, then back at Dean, whose eyes are soft and focused only on him. _Fuck it._ “Uh, we met at a bar and decided to have a one-night stand. So... yeah, that's what we're going to do. We are... future temporary partners?” he squints as he turns to Dean, who shrugs and nods. The crowd of friends starts talking all at once, and Cas quiets them down and explains, leaving out the sex shop and the gonorrhea and the crying and anything he thinks might upset Dean. Dean jumps in and adds the gonorrhea part, sharing only his anger about it and about what an asshole his ex-boyfriend is. Everyone agrees, and the conversation is diverted. Dean's friends start sharing the concerns they've had over the last several months about Dean while Cas' friends talk about how Benny earned the V.D. nickname at the club. Cas is grateful. He knew his own friends wouldn't look down on Dean for any of that, and he's happy to see that Dean has equally supportive friends.

“So wait, what happens after this?” Max asks. “I mean, after you have sex? Is that it? Are you guys not gonna hang out after?”

Cas looks at Dean, who is wearing the same blank look Cas is. “Uh, that's it, I guess?” Cas says, looking away. He can't bear to see any sort of indifferent look that might pass over Dean's face... and he certainly doesn't want Dean to see his own expression. He tries to make his voice sound casual. “I mean, that's what a one-night stand is, correct? No strings?”

Their friends harangue them about their agreement, arguing that they should at the very least stay friends or friends with benefits if not partners. Cas grows increasingly uncomfortable, and Dean seems to sense it. He curls an arm around Cas and walks them away from the well-meaning friends, waving as he goes; Cas loves the weight of his arm on his shoulders.

“Let's go dance and not worry about this, alright?” Dean murmurs in Cas' ear as he leads him to the dance floor, his breath hot and his voice deep and warm. A low, sultry song with a thrumming beat starts playing, and desire pools in Cas' groin. Dean seems to sense that, too, so he says, “I can't wait to fuck you, Cas,” as he wraps his arms around his middle and pulls their hips together.

“God, me too,” Cas groans, pulling Dean closer as he winds his arms around his neck. They touch their foreheads together but don't kiss, losing themselves in each other's hungry gazes instead. “Don't you dare miss a dose,” he growls, and Dean laughs as he closes the gap between their bodies and embraces him tightly. And even though they eventually part as the music picks up again, it's the thing that stays with Cas long after the night is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see Dean's reaction to the news from the clinic and what drove him to make the call to Cas on Saturday morning, you can check out chapter 4 of "The Agreement" (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479).


	5. Chapter 5

_To Cas 7:49pm: I’m bringing something fatty for lunch tomorrow, so be prepared._

Castiel is pleasantly surprised to receive the text from Dean on Sunday night about lunch. He half-expected Dean to forget him now that he’s reconnected with his friends.

_To Dean 7:51pm: Are you, now? Why’s that?_

_To Cas 7:52pm: Because we worked off a lot of calories on Saturday night. Wouldn’t want to waste away._

Cas smiles at his phone.

“Someone sending you naked pics or what?” Gabe asks as he peers over to look at Cas’ phone. Cas snatches it away and sends Dean a text:

_To Dean 7:53pm: That’s a very convincing argument. Thank you for looking out for us. We do need to keep up our energy. ;)_

“No one’s sending me photos,” Cas tells his brother.

“I bet he’s talking to _Dean_ ,” Zar says before finishing off his after-dinner drink.

“Are you?” Gabe asks. Cas ignores him to read Dean’s text:

_To Cas 7:55pm: If that’s the case, then we’ll need a heart-stopping, calorie-laden breakfast when we finally get together. We’ll be burning way more calories then. ;)_

“None of your business,” Cas answers his brother as he sends a flirty _Looking forward to it. ;)_

On Monday morning, Cas receives a text as he’s settling at his desk:

_To Cas 7:58am: Day 4 ;)_

It makes Cas smile to know that Dean is counting down to the end of his meds, too, just as Cas is. It means he’s still excited for their planned night. Cas tries not to think about the little tinge of sadness that surrounds the excitement he feels, knowing that he’ll lose him when it’s over. Of course, once the meds are done he’ll have to go back and test, and that’ll take another couple of weeks for results, so they have some time. He sighs and focuses on his work, knowing he’ll see Dean in a little while.

Dean does bring a greasy, sloppy, delicious pizza, and they eat at the table in the breakroom. Jo joins them. It’s comfortable and companionable. He feels a bit guilty that he hasn’t taken the time to chat with Jo more, and vows to change that. Dean and Jo share stories about their antics growing up, and Cas chuckles at just how normal their lives seemed to be, especially compared to his.

“You led very idyllic, normal childhoods,” Cas sighs with a little smile. “Completely different from mine.” At that, Cas bites his lip and swallows, and he sees Dean raise his brows in curiosity. _Shit_. For all of the conversations they’ve had, Cas has said very little about his parents or his childhood. He isn’t trying to _hide_ anything, per sé. His family is just… weird. He’s not embarrassed, exactly (not anymore). He loves them dearly, in fact. It’s just that not everyone understands them, and he’s sensitive about that. It’s the same with him, really, but he tends to conform a little more easily… for better or worse. Worse, probably.

“Oh, how’s that?” Dean asks, leaning forward. He really doesn’t want to elaborate, but Dean’s hopeful eyes get him to confess. _It’ll either scare him away or explain a few things about me._

“We, uh, had a non-traditional life, you might say,” Cas admits. “My parents were – are – free spirits, and we basically lived around the world. We lived in an RV and camped in the north in the warmer months and in the south in the cooler months. We were homeschooled, of course. Dad wrote freelance for magazines and mom made crafts and sold them at fairs and markets all over the place. Sometimes they’d work at county fairs or circuses running games or rides, or they’d pick up whatever job was advertised on the side of the road, like picking apples or hunting or helping a bunch of nudists build a community room at their commune. When we were each old enough to do something, Gabe and Anna and I helped out.” Dean and Jo give him strange looks, but he just shrugs. He’s used to people’s reactions. “When I was older and a bit more self-sufficient, they bought us passports and we traveled abroad, backpacking and living in hostels or with random strangers or tribes. We still did odd jobs, and we did humanitarian work. We came back to the U.S. when I turned 20. I went to college, Anna worked as a promoter for a bunch of rock bands for a while, and Gabe worked as a kids’ entertainer until he became a DJ; he’s the program manager now and does a morning show with Zar, who you met. My parents bought another RV and are now in Mexico, last I knew.”

Dean is scrabbling for something to say, and Jo just looks dumbfounded. “Um. Wow, Cas,” Dean finally manages.

“Yeeeaaahhh… so, that’s me,” he says, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

“But you’re so normal and boring,” Jo murmurs, forgetting for the moment that she’s speaking to her boss. Dean flicks his fingers against her arm in admonishment as he scolds her, but Cas finds it amusing rather than insulting. He chuckles.

“We moved around so much and I had so many ‘experiences’ that I needed a bit of stability. I got used to staying in one place while I was in college, so afterward I just settled here. Gabe and Anna followed me here when I enrolled in school. They say it’s because I’m the baby and they didn’t want me to be alone, but I know better.” He smiles as he thinks of the many times they had wished for the same kind of stability he did, whether they admitted it or not. “I guess I’m not all that ‘wild’ like the rest of my family.”

Dean shoots him an incredulous smirk and a cocked eyebrow, and Cas attempts to keep the heat roiling in his belly from creeping onto his face.

“Wildest thing you’ve ever done,” Jo demands, looking at him in wonder, as if she’s never met him before. When Cas tries to protest, she says, “Come on now, you know it’s always the quiet ones who are the wildest. With everything you did growing up, there has to be something.”

“Well, probably propositioning a stranger for sex,” Cas says. Dean taps his knee against Cas’, and Cas presses his knee against his in response and watches the tips of Dean’s ears turn pink. He kind of wishes Jo was elsewhere.

“Everybody does that.”

“I don’t,” Cas retorts. “I mean, I hadn’t before.” He catches Dean’s pleased smile in his periphery as he keeps his attention on Jo.

“I mean something else, like charming a snake or something.”

He ponders the question. “I held numerous snakes when we worked with a snake wrangler. I have gone swimming with sharks and I’ve had my head in the mouth of a lion. Um… I…”

“Dude, seriously?” Dean asks.

“Yes, seriously. Uh, I once drove 250 kilometers per hour on the Autobahn with the car of a guy we were staying with.”

“Holy shit,” Dean whispers, then repeats in a shout. “Dude, that’s like super fuckin’ fast!”

“Just over 155 miles per hour,” Cas says offhandedly, though he admits to ruffling his peacock feathers just a bit.

“What else?” Jo asks excitedly.

“Mmm… I got a nipple piercing when I was 15. I don’t have that anymore; my ex didn’t like it. I got a tattoo when I was 16. It’s a traditional Japanese tattoo called an irezumi.”

“Seriously?” she shrieks. “Where is it?”

“Between my shoulder blades. It’s a bird among clouds. The artist hid words in the wings; they call that kakushibori, which means hidden carving.”

“Wow,” Dean says. He keeps staring at Cas’ back as if he can see through his shirt. Cas catches him and gives him a slow, promising wink while Jo rattles off everything she knows about traditional Japanese tattoos, which is quite a bit. The front door buzzes, indicating that someone has entered, and Jo abandons their conversation and the remnants of her lunch to attend to her duties.

“You’ll get to see it soon enough,” Cas teases as they pick up lunch. He can feel Dean’s eyes on him even with his back turned.

“I can’t fuckin’ wait,” Dean growls. Cas laughs, grateful that Dean doesn’t seem to think less of him for his strange upbringing. This is confirmed when Dean crowds into his space, his arms on either side as Cas is pinned against the table, and says, “So, any other wild things you’ve done, Cas?”

Cas has to insulate himself against the heat in Dean’s eyes. He is at work, after all. “A few things,” he says with a casual lilt. He lays a hand on Dean’s chest and presses him back a step. “And I hope to do a few more. Now get out of my office, will you?” Dean laughs even as his face flushes brightly from Cas’ insinuation. When he settles, his eyes fall onto Cas’ face, something warm and accepting shining in those gorgeous greens.

“Dude, I think you’re more like your family than you think,” he observes as he gathers his things. “‘Cause you are definitely not boring. Or even normal. But I like it.” He winks and waves as he leaves the office, and Cas is proud of himself for not chasing him down and kissing him senseless in the reception area.

Cas leans against his desk and smiles as he thinks about Dean’s words. As a young child, he was every bit the same sort of critical-thinking, nature-loving free spirit his parents and siblings were. He loved and embraced the fact that he was different. As he grew older and interacted with “normal” children, though, he saw his parents’ behavior as embarrassing. He wanted to be different than his odd, flighty parents, who named their children after angels during their religious phase and then later let them choose their own names so they were “unencumbered by the labels we forced upon you as infants.” (Gabe chose Loki, Anael chose Anna, and Cas chose his initials, thinking it cool at the time.) Cas didn’t want to be lumped in the same category as the weirdos who dragged him around the world, proclaiming that “the Earth is your classroom, the Sky is your television, the Forest is your bedroom, and your fellow Humans are your teachers” when Castiel asked why he couldn’t go to school or live in a normal house and do normal activities like other children. He didn’t want to fall into the ways of his siblings, who lived life as if they were invincible and rules did not apply to them. He was different than all of them, he thought, but not different enough to fit in with everyone else, and he had just wanted to be _normal_. So in his adolescence, he insisted on being called Castiel, his proper, given name (though his family never did), and he refused to call his siblings or parents by anything but their given names or “Mom” and “Dad.” He stopped at libraries wherever he could in order to get a “real” education from people who were “smart” and “knew what they were talking about.” He kept his few belongings orderly and he studied numbers, which had no chaos or impracticality about them. He married a woman who liked an orderly, conventional life and cared about what others thought. And throughout his rebellion - because that’s what it was, really, although most people rebelled in the opposite direction - he was, deep down, a bit miserable. He hadn’t yet figured out how to reconcile all of the pieces of himself - the pieces that were responsible and enjoyed numbers and order and a house that stays in one place and the pieces that were freewheeling and enjoyed dancing nude under a summer sky and howling at the moon and having sex however he damn well pleased - into one coherent, whole person. As he’s aged, though, he’s realized that his parents weren’t that far off the mark in the way they chose to live. Perhaps they had an interesting way of living that most people wouldn’t choose, but it was authentic. That’s why they were so happy. And, Cas realizes, he never really strayed as far away from their values as he thought he did. Even when he went to the library, he picked up books of fantasy and poetry as much as mathematics and science. Even when he kept his things neat, those things were reminders of his unorthodox life - a shark’s tooth, a snake’s shedded skin, a sword given to him in a coming-of-age ceremony - and he cherished them. Even when he was ever proper and all-American with his marriage and his MBA, he was otherworldly and creative, a former DJ himself through college and participant at raves and poetry slams. Meeting Dean shined a new light on himself as a person at a time when he was at a crossroads. He feels himself transforming into the person he wants to be - a colorful conglomeration of conventional and quirky, with no shame for any piece of him. He is both C.J. and Castiel; he thinks the nickname, Cas, that Dean gave him sums up his new sense of self nicely. He’s overwhelmed with gratitude and sadness for what he’s gained… and what he will eventually lose once their night is over.

“You okay, there, boss man? You look like you’re out to lunch,” Jo asks with a quirk of her mouth. He hadn’t noticed her come in.

Cas shakes himself out of his introspection. “Yes, Jo, I’m fine.”

“Okay, then, Cas,” she grins. She leaves his office just as his phone begins to buzz with a text.

_From Dean 1:26pm: You should at least send me a pic of your tat. Give me something to think about._

_Seeking myself, I fly. Finding myself, I soar_ , his tattoo reads. It seems fitting. Castiel laughs to himself and complies with Dean’s request, thinking of a time when they’ll soar together, if only for a night.

***

Cas gets several updates from Dean throughout the week:

_To Cas 7:24am: Day 5 – halfway there!_

_To Cas 7:06am: Day 7 :)_

_To Cas 8:41am: Day 9 – holy shit!_

And Cas responds in kind:

_To Dean 7:27am: :D_

_To Dean 7:14am: I’m so excited :)_

_To Dean 9:02am: Holy fuck! Soon I’ll be saying your name. ;)_

And finally, on day 10, Dean calls – much too early on a Sunday morning for most people, but Cas has been awake for a while. Cas knows it’s the last day, and he woke up feeling _very_ celebratory. But with up to two more weeks to wait for the next test results, he knew there wouldn’t be any “celebrating” with Dean just yet, so he decided to throw a party for one and the party is in full swing. As the phone rings on his nightstand, he debates whether to answer it. Cas could always call Dean back… but what if it’s serious? He doesn’t call all that often. Cas isn’t sure what the best course of action is, given his current predicament. But what does he have to lose, really? He’s less certain what he’d do if this was someone he was in a relationship with – would he draw his partner into a full-on phone sex session or would he be too embarrassed to admit what he was doing without his partner on a Sunday morning while everyone else in the world was doing wholesome things with their loved ones? – but since it’s Dean and he’s supposed to be just a one-night fling, he figures he has nothing to lose. Plus, he can admit it would be a turn-on. He decides to answer (and to cut it short if need be) and says breathlessly, “Hello, Dean.”

Seeming not to notice, Dean shouts excitedly, “Cas! Just took my last one! Hallelujah!”

“Last what?” Cas teases Dean as he teases himself, the sound of Dean’s voice stoking his internal fire.

“My med, dork.” Cas can hear Dean’s smile through the phone. He loves his smiling voice the best.

“I know. Just teasing you.” He clears his throat and tries to steady his breathing.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve sent you enough reminders, huh? I… hey, are you okay? Your voice sounds… off.”

“Yeah, fine, just haven’t used it yet this morning,” Cas answers, his free hand trying to hold the phone steady as he busies the other and folds over himself. It’s not a lie, really, though he knows his voice is huskier than it would be if he was just waking up. “You sound pretty happy about being done.” He clenches his teeth together and puffs hot breaths through his nose as a sudden shock of pleasure jolts him.

“Well, yeah. I mean, we’ll have to wait a couple of weeks for the results, but after that…”

“After that, what?” Cas manages to say. _God, Dean sounds so good. If only he knew what he’s doing to me. What I’m doing to me in response to what he’s doing to me._ He puts the phone on speaker and sets it aside so he can use both of his hands.

“After that, you know… I mean, unless you don’t want to anymore,” he says uncertainly. “We don’t have to. I’m not gonna get mad. I mean, I’ll be disappointed but…”

“Dean,” Cas says, nearly moaning aloud but stopping himself as he’s arching off the bed, “of course I do.” He pauses, then adds slyly in a breathy voice that he wants Dean to take as fake but is very real, “I just need you to remind me exactly what you’re going to do to me.”

“Well,” Dean says, almost bashfully, and Cas thinks it’s adorable as well as completely frustrating, “I’m, if you still want, I’m gonna, um… you know, Cas!”

“Tell me,” he growls. He can tell he’s close. “Tell me exactly what you’re going to do. What we both want. Come on.”

“You told me you wanted me to pound you, so…” he says hesitantly. Cas hadn’t taken him for the shy type, then realizes he’s probably still under some of that old conditioning from his last relationship. Then he worries that maybe Dean doesn’t really want to but doesn’t know how to say it.

“Tell me what you want to do, Dean.”

“You know what I want. Same as you.”

Cas won’t let him get away with not answering. In his lust-strangled voice, he says, “Listen, Dean. I’m not doing anything with you until you tell me what you want. What I want is full and enthusiastic consent. So tell me what you want.”

“I wanna fuck you.”

“Louder.”

“I wanna fuck you, Cas,” he says with a bit more confidence.

“Louder, Dean!” Cas commands, feeling himself cresting.

“I wanna pound you into the mattress until we break it!” he growls loudly, and Cas tumbles over the edge, pushing the phone further away and screaming silently into his pillow as he rides hard through his orgasm. He hears Dean calling his name worriedly over the speaker but can’t quite answer yet. He takes a moment to steady his breathing, then wipes his hand on his sheets and picks up the phone.

“I’m right here, Dean,” Cas says as slowly and unaffectedly as he can, still floating.

“Hey, you alright? You disappeared for a minute there. Was I, um, I mean, did I say too much? Was I… too much?”

He can almost imagine the man rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously, and he wants to comfort him, yet the thought of Dean ever saying or doing anything less than wonderful feels absurd in that moment of free-flying bliss. “You were perfect, Dean,” he assures, then laughs, a little trilling in his throat that sounds airy in his ears.

“Okaaay, then,” Dean says with mirth and a bit of doubt. “You sure you’re alright? You still sound different than usual.”

“Perfect,” Cas rumbles in his low baritone. “I’m going to get up and take a shower now.”

“Dude, you’re still in bed? That explains why you sound so wrecked. Sorry for waking you, man. You should’ve told me; I would’ve let you go back to sleep.”

“Mmm, no, you didn’t wake me, Dean,” Cas chuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow to go to the clinic.” He hangs up and laughs to himself as he stares at the ceiling. Dean makes him feel like… like skinny-dipping and making dinner… like skydiving and walking in the park… like he’s wild yet grounded… like he’s wholly, unabashedly himself.

Cas is eating lunch when he finally gets the text he expected. He smirks as he reads:

_To Cas 12:22pm: Okay, stupid question, but if I didn’t wake you, then what were you doing? It’s driving me nuts. I know I don’t have the right to ask but I am anyway. You can tell me to go to hell._

He debates teasing the man, drawing it out and putting him on edge, but he sounds a bit insecure at the moment. Cas remembers that Dean was cheated on and it clicks: he’s afraid Cas was with someone. Though they never agreed that either of them couldn’t, Cas has assumed they’re both “saving themselves” for each other, as it were. Now that he’s not riding the wave of sexual pleasure, he’s a little nervous to share what he was doing, but he doesn’t want Dean to think for a minute that he would cheat on him, or whatever it would be called in their situation.

_To Dean 12:24pm: Let’s just say the PSA was on point._

He wonders if that’ll be clear enough. It’s not.

_To Cas 12:25pm: The what?_

Cas fidgets and hesitates for a moment. He’s going to reveal his cards and he hopes it doesn’t blow up in his face. He feels heat race through his veins. He begins to type, then thinks better of it and attaches a photo to a blank message.

_To Dean 12:28pm: [1 photo]_

_To Cas 12:28pm: Dude, you sent me a pic of Rock Em Sock Em Robots_

_To Cas 12:29pm: Does this mean_

_To Cas 12:29pm: PSA = prostate stimulating action?_

How to respond? Cas isn’t sure, so he goes with something simple:

_To Dean 12:29pm: ;)_

_To Cas 12:30pm: Holy shit_

_To Cas 12:30pm: While we were on the phone?_

_To Cas 12:30pm: And you didn’t tell me_

_To Cas 12:30pm: Holy shit_

Cas reads the rapidly-arriving messages and isn’t quite sure how Dean’s taking it, until:

_To Cas 12:31pm: Dude that’s so fucking hot_

Cas is startled into laughter as the texts continue:

_To Cas 12:32pm: I can’t believe you were so quiet_

_To Cas 12:32pm: But that explains why your voice sounded so wrecked_

_To Cas 12:33pm: You left our call for a minute_

_To Cas 12:34pm: DUDE DID YOU FUCKING COME WHILE WE WERE ON THE PHONE????_

Cas laughs aloud. He can only imagine what Dean’s thinking. If the situation was reversed, Cas knows he’d be incredibly turned on.

_To Dean 12:34pm: Umm… yes?_

_To Cas 12:34pm: So. Fucking. Hot._

Cas giggles with his tongue through his teeth. He swears he’s never giggled so much in his entire life.

_To Cas 12:35pm: I can’t wait to fuck you_

_To Cas 12:36pm: Damn you should’ve told me I would’ve joined you_

_To Cas 12:36pm: Could’ve seen how the zippers worked on the panties you bought me_

_To Cas 12:37pm: Fuck I gotta go. Sam’s coming over in 15 min and I am NOT gonna have a boner_

Cas re-reads the texts over and over and cannot wipe the smile off his face. He’s starting to regret their little one-night agreement. Dean has given him so much, though, that it would be selfish to ask for more, especially since he doesn’t want a relationship. This will be fun, too, if a little lonely afterward.

On Monday, Dean shows up shortly after Jo arrives at 8:00. Cas has already been there an hour, needing to get caught up on clients who filed tax extensions and knowing that Dean would be coming by and eating away at some of his office time. Not that he minds. Not that he _could_ mind, given how delicious he looks as Cas opens his office door into the reception area and sees Dean perched on the corner of Jo’s desk, clad in faded jeans and a loose-fitting _Houses of the Holy_ t-shirt. He gives him an appreciative once-over behind Jo’s head. Dean notices and bites his lip in a coy move that could’ve been completely unintended or very, very deliberate. Either way, it only makes him sexier. It’s a mild morning, the sun promising a warm day, so Cas leaves his coat behind and they walk out of the office without saying a word. The words come when they are a few yards away from the office.

“So I thought about you a lot yesterday,” Dean admits in a steady, intimate voice close to Cas’ ear, which is a feat considering how he bounces when he walks.

“Is that so?” Cas says with false indifference. “Funny, I only thought of you once. But that one time lasted all day,” he continues with a wink.

Throughout the walk, at the clinic, and on the way back, they talk of other things – Dean’s visit with Sam, the rabbits that Cas saw during his run in the park, the price of gasoline – but every so often they throw in something flirty and suggestive. They bump elbows when they walk, they laugh a little too loudly at the clinic, and Cas notices an extra layer of scent on him, a spicy clove atop the cool, clean scent of his aftershave. He becomes aware of the cologne he felt compelled to splash on this morning and wonders whether Dean did the same thing. It excites and saddens him at the same time.

“So, two weeks or less,” Dean blurts as they arrive back at his office. It feels strangely reminiscent of the first time they’d gotten tested.

“Yes,” Cas says warmly, hoping to put the other man at ease, and Dean’s eyes sparkle back at him. It’s less raw sexual desire and more connection and confidence that neither of them are backing out of this thing they’ve committed to doing.

“So, uh, I’ll talk to you soon,” Dean promises. Cas nods, and they part ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Dean’s point of view of Cas’ “party for one” and a detailed description of his tat, see chapter 5 of the companion fic, “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479).


	6. Chapter 6

_To Cas 6:25pm: Can you come over? I got my letter._

_To Dean 6:26pm: Sure. Are you at home? Is everything okay?_

_To Cas 6:27pm: I just don’t want to open it alone. Yeah, got my letter from Sam’s place and I’m at home now. Or I can come to you?_

_To Dean 6:29pm: That’s fine. I’m taking lasagna out of the oven in 20 minutes if you’d like to join me for dinner._

_To Cas 6:30pm: You had me at lasagna. Actually, you had me at you. ;) Be there soon._

Cas had never believed in hearts actually skipping a beat, but he swears his just did. After sending him his address and telling him to just walk in when he gets here, Cas sits at his oak dining table and rubs his hands through his hair, mussing it more than its usual state of disarray. _This is getting dangerous._ He huffs and stands up, busying himself with setting an extra place instead of thinking about how much he _doesn’t_ _need_ a partner right now although he’d really _like_ one and how much Dean _doesn’t_ _want_ a boyfriend although _what if he had a decent one like me?_ It’s too much, so he straightens out the living room and changes into his favorite jeans and a thin white t-shirt that shows off his muscles and hints at the tattoo on his back.

Dean walks into the house as Cas is sorting through his mail. “Hey,” he smiles, and the way Dean looks, like he’s just coming home after a quick run to the store, sets off butterflies in his gut and warning bells in his head.

Cas gives him the tour of the house, and Dean seems especially entranced by the garage (“It’s so neat and clean”) and by the large deck with the grill and the hot tub (“Dude, I’d just drag my bed outside and live out here”). Back inside, he praises Cas’ cooking skills and shares his own love of cooking. They talk about their favorite things to make and what they absolutely can’t stand to eat (calamari for Cas, asparagus for Dean). After gobbling several cookies that Sam’s wife Jess made for Dean, they sit on the couch with a beer each.

“It’s kinda like the Oscars,” Dean jokes as he fumbles with the envelope. Cas smiles gently. He wants to tell Dean that whatever it says, it’ll be okay. He wants to tell him that he’ll wait if he has to go through another round of antibiotics. He wants to tell him that he didn’t deserve any of the crap that his ex-boyfriend foisted onto him. But he’s not sure Dean wants to hear the words, so he sits quietly, letting his body relax and his leg lean against Dean’s as he watches not the letter he opens, but his face. It is, apparently, good news. The stress of the past few weeks melts off Dean’s face.

“Oh thank God,” Dean says as he shows the letter to Cas. Castiel barely glances at it before he’s gripping Dean in a tight hug that Dean’s returning, his body trembling slightly.

“I’m so happy for you,” Cas says over Dean’s shoulder, just behind his ear. Dean squeezes him a little more tightly.

After a few minutes of silence as the good news sinks in, Dean says, “So, uh, I guess we’re good to go, huh?”

“It would appear that way, yes,” Cas agrees. He wonders whether Dean means he wants to “go” tonight. Cas doesn’t feel ready. He lacks the desperation that made him seek out a hookup in the first place, and his breath smells like garlic, and he’s not sure if he has condoms (and why the fuck hasn’t he bought any yet?), and Anna said something about “manscaping,” and Dean deserves more than…

“Hey, you alright?” Dean asks. His forehead is wrinkled in concern.

 _Your panic is showing, dumbass._ “Yes, yes of course,” Cas says as he shakes his head. He places one of his wrists atop Dean’s shoulder. “So, when were you thinking? Now, or…”

“No!” Dean’s response nearly knocks his hand off. “I mean, no, it doesn’t have to be tonight. Unless you want it to be…” he says weakly.

 _No. Please no_. “Well, I don’t have any condoms…” Cas starts, and Dean’s relief is as palpable as Cas guesses his own is.

“Okay, yeah, me neither. It’s okay, though. I mean, I gotta work tomorrow anyway.”

“Yes, me too,” Cas says, but then wonders if having to work the next day will make it easier for him to leave. He has a feeling it’ll be difficult not to linger in Dean’s arms. Unless, of course, he kicks him out, in which case he won’t have to worry about lingering.

As if hearing his thoughts, Dean says, “Right. Okay. So, uh, I mean, is a weekend night better, though, or…”

“It doesn’t matter, really. I’m just not prepared tonight.”

“Yeah. Right. Okay. Um. How about Thursday?”

“Yes. Thursday would be great.”

 _Thursday. Too far away and yet too close._ Cas turns on Netflix and soon they relax again in an easy silence.

On Thursday they agree to meet after work for drinks at the Roadhouse. It only seems fitting. Cas waits nervously, fiddling with his phone in much the same way as he did six weeks ago.

“Well, hi there, Castiel,” the bartender says. It’s Ellen – his employee’s mother, his one-night stand’s aunt, who saw him drunk and making a fool of himself. She’s evaluating him, squinting and tilting her head from side to side subtly as if he’s an old vase and she’s not sure if he’s a valuable antique or a piece of junk. “I hear you’re meetin’ up with my nephew.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says gravely. “He mentioned it?”

“He did. Didn’t mention your little agreement, though. Jo told me that.”

Castiel massages the bridge of his nose. “I… didn’t really mean for her to know that, exactly.”

“Eh, she’s a smart girl. She would’ve figured it out eventually, even if you hadn’t told her.”

“She is intelligent and quite observant.”

“Yes she is,” Ellen agrees. “But she didn’t need to tell me. I saw you two carrying on a few weeks ago.” Castiel cringes in embarrassment at the memory, but she continues. “You two seem to get along well, from what I’ve seen and heard from Jo and Sam.”

“He’s a wonderful person.”

“He is. He’s worth a lot more than what that Benny character thought.”

“I agree.”

“I’d hate to see him used like that again.”

Castiel doesn’t answer; he squirms on the barstool and focuses on the scarred bartop. She places a beer in front of him and leaves a second one to the side for Dean.

“I’ve see a lot of people hook up in here, Dean included,” Ellen says, “but I ain’t never seen anyone wait as long as you have just for a casual thing.” Cas dares to meet her eyes, and they’re softer than he expects. “It's nice that you did.” She nods at him and walks toward the other end of the bar to help some new patrons. He feels a hand graze his lower back and a body slide onto the stool next to his.

“Hey, I heard this really hot guy is lookin’ for a night of passion?”

Cas leans into the touch as his eyes slide to his right toward the smoky voice, where Dean is grinning boyishly. His hair is gelled and he's dressed in a black button-down and a clean pair of jeans, and he smells like Heaven. He probably tastes like it, too. His heart thumps wildly as he drinks him in.

“Is that so? You might want to go find him, then,” Cas smirks.

Dean leans forward until his lips brush Cas' ear. “I'm lookin' at him,” he purrs, and Cas' body flushes with warmth and desire. But he doesn't want to rush right into things, so he pushes Dean's beer toward him. He nods in thanks and twists it open, then takes a long swallow of the amber liquid.

Cas watches as Dean relaxes into his seat. Now that there's a bit of space between them and his senses aren't quite so overwhelmed, he notices that Dean seems a little too “on.” He doesn't really know the man at all (unless he counts the several weeks' worth of lunches/dinners and Netflix bingeing and text messaging, which he tries not to lest he forget they are a one-time thing), but he can't help but observe the tension in his posture, the words he's not saying, the smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“What's wrong, Dean?” he asks.

“What? Nothing!” he smiles too brightly. “Just ready for tonight!” His toothy grin doesn’t fool Cas.

“Uh-huh. Let's try this again. What's wrong, Dean?”

Dean stares at the varnished bar. “Nothing, really, just... havin' a crappy couple of weeks.” He fingers the napkin underneath his bottle, tearing the moist paper.

Castiel had noticed that Dean seemed a little more preoccupied since the second testing they'd done – not in some kind of angry or punitive way, but in more of a needing-time-to-think kind of way. They'd kept in touch during that period with lunches and texts, and Dean was as wonderful as ever, but the contact hadn't been as frequent as before. Until Dean called about the results, Cas even thought that he might want to back out of their agreement. “I noticed,” he finally says.

“Oh. Shit, I'm sorry. It wasn’t you, I swear,” he says, pressing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. Cas is comforted by the contact. “But hey, nothin’ a roll in the hay can’t fix!” he grins.

Ignoring the second part of his statement, Cas replies, “No need to be sorry. So I'm hoping third time's the charm, here... What's wrong, Dean?” He pins Dean in place with a sharp stare.

“It's Benny,” Dean mutters with a sigh.

“What about him?” At Dean's twisted face of reluctance, Cas adds, “It's okay to talk about him. You won't offend me.”

“See, that's the whole fucked-up thing about this!” Dean explodes, the stress of whatever’s been on his mind scattering like buckshot. “This is our night. _Our night_. I should be psyched. Instead, I'm stressed out because the rent is due at the apartment again soon and I want to stop paying but I need my stuff and I can't get in because he changed the locks, and he keeps calling me, and I don't wanna go there when he's there, and...”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Castiel interrupts Dean's rapidly-derailing train. “Did you say you're still paying rent? You’re not on the lease, and you haven't lived there in weeks!”

“I know, man, I know! But I have a shit-ton of expensive tools there, and I have old family photos and shit that I can't replace, and....” He stops and looks at Cas desperately.

“And you didn't want him to destroy your things,” Cas murmurs in understanding. Without thinking, he rests his hand on Dean's knee. “Oh Dean, I'm so sorry.”

“I feel like a fucking idiot, Cas,” Dean moans. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t wanna see him but I don’t know what else to do.”

Castiel gets an idea, but then a thought occurs to him that he would rather push far, far away. He doesn’t want to ask, but before he puts forth this idea he has to be sure. “Dean,” Cas says cautiously, closing his eyes briefly to show Dean how much this pains him, “I have an idea, but before I share it I need to ask you something. Please don’t be offended.” At Dean’s nod to continue, he asks, “Do you feel like you might want to get back together with him if you see him? Is there any tiny part of you that still wants to be with him and work things out?”

Dean rubs his face, smearing the condensation from the mostly-full beer bottle on his cheeks, and answers, “If you had asked me the night we met, or even a week or two later, there might have been. But between that damn STD and getting to know you better and hanging out with my friends again, I feel better and I realize there's so much better out there than him. So no, there's not even one atom in my body that wants to be with him anymore. I just want him out of my life for good.”

Castiel sets his jaw. “Then let's make that happen, Dean. Let's go get your stuff. Tonight. Now.”

“Cas, this is our night...”

“Nope. We have bigger things to do. Our one-night stand can wait.” He starts pulling Dean off the stool, but Dean's feet stop them from moving.

“Cas, you've been so great to me, I can't ask you to do this.”

Cas watches the play of emotions across his face: guilt, shame, hope. “You didn't ask. I want to. Please.” Dean studies his face and finally agrees.

“Okay. Yeah, okay. But we won’t be able to get in,” he warns. “If he sees me he’s not gonna open the door ‘cause I told him the only reason I’d come around is to get my stuff and he said he wouldn’t let me in.” He pinches his lips closed as if in pain before he continues, “I mean, I guess I could call him and pretend I changed my mind...”

Cas shakes his head. There’s no way in hell he’d make him do that, although his own plan is pretty drastic. “Oh, no, don’t you worry. You don’t have to do that. I have another idea. Come with me. Let’s go storm the castle.” He pulls him off the stool completely and keeps his hand around Dean’s until they get to Cas’ car.

Cas makes a few phone calls on the way to his house while Dean looks out the window, lost in his own thoughts. When they arrive Gabe is already there waiting in his living room, his pickup truck parked outside.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Cas tells Dean. He disappears into his bedroom and pouts a bit at the freshly-changed bed. He hadn’t been sure whether they’d end up at his place or Dean’s, so he tidied up just in case. Now, apparently, they aren’t going to end up using either bed. Not together, anyway. Cas feels a strange mix of disappointment and relief.

“This is a lot to be doing for a hookup, you know that, right?” Gabriel says, startling Castiel.

“When the hell did you come in?”

“While you were staring at your bed. Weren’t you guys supposed to do the deed tonight?”

“Yes.”

“And instead we’re going to his ex-boyfriend’s place.”

“Yes.”

“C.J.…”

“Ugh, stop. I know what you’re going to say. I’m not ‘sacrificing myself’ or whatever. I just want my partner to be clear-headed when we have sex.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“What then, Gabe? That I’m being stupid for caring about someone I’m just going to have one night with? Well, I’d rather be stupid for the right reasons.”

“Even if you end up hurt in the end?”

“We have an agreement. It’s a one-night thing. I’m under no illusions.”

“Says your rational mind. What does that part of you that gets that goofy smile on your face say?” He grabs his brother’s face and squeezes his cheeks.

Castiel scowls and swats his hand off before turning away from his brother. “Go away. I need to get ready.”

“This ain’t over,” Gabe promises as he breezes out. Castiel rolls his eyes. He knows Gabriel means well, and he knows there’s a part of him that will miss Dean afterward. But they have an agreement, and he won’t renege on it just because that little part is getting louder and larger each day. He sighs and finishes changing into his club jeans and t-shirt, then ducks into the bathroom and lines his eyes subtly with black eyeliner. He’s not a fan of the stuff anymore, but he knows how to use it. He sweeps highlighting powder lightly across his cheeks and bronzer around the edges of his face and across his nose. He coats his fingers in styling product and spikes up his hair. Satisfied that he looks like he usually does when he works at Nightingale, he slips several leather and metal bracelets on his wrists and a few silver rings on his fingers and steps into the living room, where Dean and Gabe, as well as Uri and Sam, are gathered. Dean appears stunned at Cas’ alter ego.

“Who are you and what have you done with Castiel?” Dean asks. His tone is teasing, but Cas doesn’t miss the flare of arousal in his eyes.

“This is how I dress when I work at the club,” Cas explains. “This is how A.B. knows me best.”

“Ah,” Dean responds, swallowing as his eyes soak Cas in from head to toe. Cas offers Dean a tiny, shy smile, and Dean responds in kind before looking away.

“So tell us the mission, O Capitán,” Gabe pleads with mock subservience. Castiel glares at his brother.

“So we’re going to get Dean’s stuff,” Cas says flatly to Gabe. He continues, “Dean told me they have a video intercom at their apartment….”

“Fancy,” Gabe observes snarkily, then raises his hands in apology when Dean explains the landlord installed them after a number of crimes occurred there.

“Anyway…” Cas gives his brother a pointed glare, “I’m going to show up and convince him to let me in. Once I get in, you guys follow me and stay hidden until I can get into the apartment. Once I do that, you’ll all follow and we’ll get his things. Uri, you’ll babysit him until we’re finished. The rest of us will get everything out and packed in Gabe’s truck and the cars. We’ll bring the stuff to Sam’s garage for now. Questions?”

“What if he doesn’t let you in?” Sam asks.

“Oh, he’ll let him in. He’s been after C.J.’s ass forever. Sorry, man,” Gabe winces as he looks at Dean. Dean dismisses the apology with a resigned shake of his head.

“Let’s go,” Dean commands.

Dean seems nervous upon their arrival, and Cas places his hand on top of Dean’s. “It’ll be okay,” he soothes.

“I know. Just want this to be over. I feel like such an asshole right now, Cas. Makin’ you do my dirty work, draggin’ you into this…”

“As I said, Dean,” Cas squeezes his hand, “you’re not making me do anything. You’re not the asshole here. He is.”

“This is a lot to do for a hookup,” Dean says, echoing the words his brother used.

“Did Gabe get to you?” Cas lifts an eyebrow as Dean looks away. He sighs. “Dean, this falls under the category of human decency, okay? You’re a great guy and you got screwed, and I just can’t abide by that.”

“I’m supposed to be screwing you right now,” he jokes, and Cas lets the deflection go. He laughs.

“Yeah. It’s okay, though. We’ve gotta take care of this first, or you won’t have the presence of mind to make me lose mine.” He winks when Dean side-eyes him, and they both chuckle. Cas realizes he’s still holding Dean’s hand. He hangs on a moment longer as he says, “Listen, though. I’m going to have to say some things to get inside the apartment, and they might feel really bad because of his betrayal. I want you to know that I don’t mean them, okay?” At Dean’s nod, he gives the handsome man’s hand a final squeeze before letting go and opening the car door.

“Here we go,” Cas mumbles to everyone as he holds his finger to his lips to silence them. They stand to the side, well out of the way of the small camera perched at the intercom.

Castiel presses the intercom button and preps himself for the biggest acting job of his life. “Hello?” a scratchy voice answers. The familiar voice fills the space around Castiel and makes it feel thick.

“Hey,” Castiel answers, lowering his voice an octave to make himself sound aroused. He’s been practicing his “bedroom eyes” for Dean and feels sickened that he has to use them now, but he knows Dean’s ex can see him and he has to look the part. He leans toward the camera lens.

“C.J.?” the surprised voice asks.

“Mmmhmm. Are you alone?”

“Uhh, yeah.”

“Would you like some company? ‘Cause I’d like to be that company,” he says, leaning in and smiling his most feral smile.

The man on the other end of the intercom seems to like what he sees. “And here I thought you weren’t interested, brother. Now you’re showin’ up for a booty call. How’d you even know how to find me?”

“Asked around, sugar,” Cas purrs, although the feeling in his throat is more like a hairball he’d like to expel violently. “Couldn’t seem too interested at the club. I’d have everyone falling all over me all the time.” Cas makes his best effort not to roll his eyes at himself. “And sugar, don’t call me brother. I don’t wanna be your brother, if you know what I mean.”

“Hot damn, C.J. Fuck. You wanna come in?”

“I wanna come, all right. Right in that hot, hard ass of yours.”

The door buzzes open, and Castiel snickers darkly in what he hopes is a sexy voice. “See you soon, sugar. Tell me which apartment I’m going to.”

“2D. Second floor, all the way in the back. I’ll be waitin’.”

“I won’t make you wait long.”

Castiel makes sure that the man isn’t going to buzz him on the intercom again before he steps to the door and pushes it open. He gestures to the other men, who make their way out of sight of the camera and follow Cas inside. They take the stairs up to the second floor quietly, as if in some sort of military operation. At the top, Cas touches his hand right over Dean’s heart in what he hopes is a comforting touch, then proceeds while the others stay in the stairwell to listen and wait. He knocks loudly.

A burly, unshaven man in boxers who Castiel detests but has to pretend to want opens the door. “Well, helloooo, C.J.,” he leers.

“Hey there,” Cas grins, leaning against the doorway and resting his foot against the door subtly so that Benny can’t close it yet. He blinks his blue eyes slowly. “Like what you see?”

“I do,” Benny says, reaching out to put his hands on Cas’ waist.

“Nuh uh uh,” he tuts as he pulls himself back from Benny’s grasp. He’s careful not to put his hands on Benny, as per Uri’s instructions. Uri is a cop when he’s not the bouncer at Nightingale, so Cas heeds his advice. “I’m the one in charge here, sugar. You’ll touch when I say so.” He sees Benny’s eyes widen as his pupils dilate. Cas knows he’s treading shaky ground, since he really doesn’t know the man. He does know that he usually goes after what he derisively calls “pretty boys” who he thinks will give him whatever he wants and will know their place. There’s a part of him that thinks he should’ve played it that way, but he really doesn’t want Benny to have the upper hand and he needs to keep the man’s attention while he keeps him unbalanced. Judging by the man’s response, he thinks he went with the right tactic.

“A feisty one, are ya, C.J.?” Benny smirks, trying to regain the advantage. “Gonna screw you so hard.”

“I think you’re the one getting screwed tonight, you bad boy,” Cas purrs. He smiles to himself at the double meaning. “Now grab that chair and go sit down in the corner. You’ve been naughty.” He stares the man down, waiting for him to move. Benny seems to be warring with himself about whether he’ll obey, and Cas starts to panic internally. Firmly, he says, “I said go, sugar. Or do I need to find a good time elsewhere?” When he doesn’t move immediately, Cas shrugs and grabs the doorknob as if he’s getting ready to leave and close it behind him.

“No! Don’t leave!” Benny calls. Cas smiles wickedly and gives him a piercing stare. Benny drags the chair over to a corner of the kitchen and sits.

“Good boy. Stay,” Cas says, planting himself next to the clearly aroused man while leaving the door ajar. Uri walks in first, as per their plan. Benny looks up at Cas in confusion as Uri stands on the other side of him.

“Like I said, you’ve been naughty. We’re here to make it right,” Cas says, no longer speaking in a seductive manner. Benny’s eyes bug out as he sees a determined Dean, followed by Sam and Gabe, walk into the apartment. Cas pushes himself away from the counter and walks toward the men, waiting for instructions from Dean about what to carry out.

“This was a setup!” Benny sputters.

“Duh,” Gabe says with a smirk. “Think C.J.’s gonna hook up with you, there, Quarter-Pounder? When he’s got that to hit?” He thumbs at Dean, who simply wiggles his brows at his ex.

Benny scowls and watches helplessly as the men gather Dean’s tools, clothing, and personal effects. He whimpers when they pick up the couch and matching chair, complaining that he’ll have nothing to sit on.

“I’m leaving you the bed, dude. Don’t be so whiny,” Dean says as he passes by his ex with an end of the couch in his hands. Castiel smiles to himself. It’s nice to hear him stand up to the asshole who hurt him.

“Wouldn’t want that cesspool of disease, anyway!” Gabe chimes, carrying the chair with Sam. Benny starts to stand but Uri gives him a stern look, and he sits and boils silently.

Cas nearly drops the couch in laughter when Dean yells out, “Pivot! Pivot!” like Ross from an episode of _Friends_ they watched. He can hear Dean laughing on the other side, and they both have to rest their ends of the couch on the stairs until they collect themselves. Cas peeks over the edge of the arm and sees Dean looking back at him, a soft smile gracing a face that looks more relaxed than he’s seen it in a while. He smiles back and takes a deep breath, pretending it’s to ready himself to lift the couch again and not to calm his racing heart.

They head back into the apartment for the last few items. It looks barren, and Cas has the feeling it would look even more so if Dean wasn’t being generous and leaving him a handful of things, including the bed. He understands why he wouldn’t want to take that with him.

Cas helps Sam carry out the last heavy item, a dresser. They angle it around the corner and down the stairs, then lift it carefully into the truck. As they take a breather, Sam says, “Thank you, Cas. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“It’s not a problem, Sam. I’m used to moving.”

“No, no,” he says, waving a hand, “not that. I mean, yeah, that too, but I mean everything you’ve done for him. Talking, the lunches, hanging out, the testing thing. He really hasn’t had anyone care like that in a long time, besides friends, I mean. Except for a few relationships, which sucked, most of the time he’s just had hookups.”

“ _I’m_ a hookup, Sam,” he reminds him.

Sam scrutinizes him thoughtfully and huffs. “So you guys keep saying. Gonna be hard to separate once it actually happens, isn’t it?”

Cas squirms and stares at his feet. “We’d better get back inside,” he says, attempting to hide the quiver that forces its way into his voice. He walks back toward the propped-open building door without a glance back.

As Cas rounds the corner at the top of the stairwell, he spies Uri waiting outside the open door, Gabe leaning on the wall next to him. At his questioning glance, Uri mouths, “They’re talking.” Gabe mimes two mouths with his hands, one seeming to yell at the cowering other. Cas’ heart sinks and he bites his lip. Cas and Sam reach the others and Cas hears the tail end of the conversation. His heart, just having fallen to the floor, now jumps and sings as he hears Dean.

“...and you treated me like crap. I deserve better. I _have_ better. I don’t need you and I don’t want you. Lose my number.”

Dean pulls the cracked-open door wider and hands Gabe and Sam the last couple of boxes. They head downstairs as Cas and Uriel stand in the doorway waiting for Dean.

Benny looks like a man making a last-ditch effort to cling to the edge of a cliff. “Fine. Go. I don’t need you, you fuckin’ pansy-ass pretty boy. I got plenty of real men to fuck.” He looks past Dean at Cas, who scowls at his gall.

“That’s the problem with you, A.B.,” Cas says as he wraps an arm around Dean’s waist, “you have plenty of guys to poke with that tiny excuse of a pecker, but you don’t have the best. Not anymore.” He squeezes Dean’s hip.

“And you never will,” Dean adds, curling his fingers around Cas’ hipbone and pulling him closer. “You know, C.J.,” he says, still looking at Benny but speaking to Cas, “we really shouldn’t call him A.B. when he’s technically my ex-boyfriend.”

Cas takes his cue and squints at Benny, pretending to ponder Dean’s statement. “Should we call him A.E. then? Asshole Ex?”

“Let’s just shorten it to Asshole,” Dean says, and Cas grins and tugs him into a side-hug. “Let’s carry on with our evening, shall we?”

“Mmm, let’s,” Cas murmurs, his sultry growl and seductive eyes finally directed where he wants them to be. A moment passes between them, and then Dean leads them out of the apartment, Uri following and Benny gaping in their wake.

They meet up at Sam’s and unload most of the items into Sam’s garage. Jess greets Cas excitedly and grills him about their hookup, and is surprised to hear that it hasn’t happened yet. Her surprise grows when Cas tells her it was supposed to be tonight but they decided to pick up Dean’s things instead. She shares a look with Sam, Gabe, and Uri that Cas chooses to ignore.

Dean and Cas don’t dawdle at Jess and Sam’s, since they still have things to bring to Dean’s and they have to work tomorrow. By the time they finish unloading Dean’s things from Cas’ car, it’s late and they are exhausted. Standing in the parking lot of the Roadhouse, leaning against his car, Cas fiddles with his keys while Dean rocks on his heels.

“So, uh, I’m…”

“If you’re going to apologize, don’t,” Cas warns. “It was my idea.” He arches a brow at Dean, daring him to say more. Dean flashes him an embarrassed grin before staring at his feet again.

“Thank you,” he says after a couple of minutes of awkwardness and glancing surreptitiously at each other.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

“So, uh, I’ll call you? Or you can call me, about, you know,” he rolls his hand to prompt Cas to fill in the rest of his sentence.

“About fucking me?” Cas asks with amusement behind his serious, innocent face.

“Jesus.”

“No, I’m Cas.”

“Ha ha.” Despite the joke not being particularly original or humorous, they both glance at each other and chuckle anyway. “So yeah, one of us can call. I mean, unless you wanna right now…”

Cas doesn’t want the night to end, and he’s sad that he’s going back to his own bed alone, but he doesn’t want to make their one night together a forced, hurried thing born of impatience. “Sorry, honey, I have a headache,” he jokes, and this time Dean’s laugh is immediate and genuine. “What are you doing this weekend?”

He shifts on his feet and rubs his neck. “Got a Ren Faire with Charlie,” he mumbles.

Cas is a little taken aback — he didn’t think that would be Dean’s kind of thing. “I’ve done a few of those. They’re fun.”

“You have?”

“Sure. I’ve done lots of things.”

“So I keep learning,” he grins. “Hey, maybe we… ah, wait, nevermind.”

“What?”

Dean looks to his side, watching his toes kick at the dirt. “Just… was gonna ask if you wanted me to give Charlie your name and number. In case you wanna go to one sometime. She can hook you up.”

Disappointment sinks into Cas’ bones, Dean’s choice of words inadvertently reminding him of what they really are to each other. “Um, it’s been a while. I’ll think about it.”

“Right,” Dean exhales harshly. “Well, I’ll let you get back home.”

“Yes. Talk to you soon.” He smiles at Dean, whose responding smile looks just as painted-on as Castiel’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work referenced in this chapter:  
> Friends, 1999, Season 5 Episode 16 “The One with the Cop”
> 
> To find out why Dean was having a crappy couple of weeks, Gabe’s conversation with Dean, and everything Dean said to Benny, check out chapter 6 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/  
> 13387479).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas is kind of a brat. Gabriel is worse. :D

Castiel knew he would wake up alone, but is still disappointed when he does. He stretches and rolls out of bed. It’s Friday and he usually works, although he takes off a bit early when he can, but today he decides to go in late instead. He texts Jo a quick message and pads into the kitchen, his bare feet sticking subtly to the floor with each step. Cas pours himself a cup of coffee from the already-filled carafe (he loves the auto-start feature) and turns on the radio. He hasn’t listened to Gabe and Zar’s morning show in a while. About halfway through his bacon, egg and avocado on toast, he feels a cold shiver slice through him as he listens to the conversation turn to something much more relevant to him.

“So I had an interesting night last night,” Gabe says to Zar.

“Oh yes? Let’s hear it. Our listeners prefer it when we’re saying interesting things,” Zar jabs at his co-host. They banter back and forth for a minute before Gabe gets on with it. Castiel had been hoping he would forget, but knew he wouldn’t.

“Okay, and I want listeners’ opinions on this, too. Okay, so my brother C.J. calls me… some of you out there remember him as my co-host eons ago. He’s the guy **that talks like this** ,” Gabe says, deepening his voice to imitate Cas’. “Anyway, so C.J. calls me and he says, ‘Listen, I need to borrow your truck, and if you can help too that would be great.’ So I’m like yeah, whatever, what’re we doing? And he says we’re going to help move so-and-so — let’s call him Hottie — out of an apartment, he only has a few things, yada yada. Now C.J. is supposed to be bangin’ a gong with this guy, alright? But instead they’re moving him out of his ex-boyfriend’s apartment.”

“Wait, so back up, Gabe,” Zar says. Cas groans. He’s likely already heard the story off air and is just playing along now. “What do you mean, ‘banging a gong’? Let’s define that for our audience.”

“Banging a gong, one-night stand, hooking up… I think they get the picture. So yeah, C.J. and Hottie were supposed to be hooking up last night ‘cause my brother is super bi....” One of them plays the chorus of N Sync’s “Bye Bye Bye” right on cue and Castiel wants to crawl into a hole — not because of the bisexual thing, but because the inane song will now be stuck in his head the rest of the day. “But instead they move him out of his ex’s apartment.”

“Well, that’s weird.”

“That’s not even the start of the weirdness, my friend.”

“It gets weirder?” Zar asks, knowing full well it does. Cas pushes his toast away, no longer hungry, and takes a gulp of coffee.

“Of course. So okay, C.J.’s a nice guy, this other guy’s a nice guy, whatevs. But you don’t usually help a one-night stand with their domestic stuff, right? That’s the beautiful thing about one-night stands — you don’t have to deal with the other one’s crap. You’re in and you’re out.”

“No pun intended,” Zar says drolly.

“Oh yeah, pun intended. Anyway, so listen closely, my friends, ‘cause here’s where it gets weird: see, C.J. and Hottie didn’t just meet last night.”

“Oh. So they’re friends.”

“You’d think so, but no. So let me finish. See, they met weeks ago, after this guy and the ex fell apart, and they were gonna hook up then.”

“So what happened?”

“So what happened was that C.J. still had a few brain cells working and figured out that they really should be tested first because they both had people cheat on them and they’re strangers, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, well, most people would drop it there, but not C.J. and Hottie. Instead, they spent their evening doing God-knows-what because he wouldn’t tell me _and_ he spent the night, but they didn’t even sleep in the same bed and he swears they didn’t even kiss. And then get this, Zar.”

“What, Gabe?”

“They went to get tested together on the following Monday. How many hookups have you done that with? And through a series of unfortunate events neither of them could control, they haven’t been able to get it on. _But_ they’ve hung out, they text, they’ve eaten meals together…”

“Oh, so they’re not friends. They’re dating.”

“But they swear they’re _not_! Do you know they call each other ‘my future one-night stand’?”

“What? So they’re not ‘friends’ or ‘friends with benefits’ or…”

“No! Nothing logical like that!”

Gabriel goes on a little longer, then invites their listeners to call in and offer their opinions, none of which Castiel wants to hear… and yet he cannot stop listening. He _is_ a bit curious about whether he’s completely sane about this whole thing. While he’s listening to the third caller spouting off about his strange life (they don’t know the half of it), he receives a text.

_To Cas 8:29am: Dude, your brother is talking about us on the radio_

Oh, shit. Castiel forgot that Dean listens to his brother’s show in the morning at work.

_To Dean 8:30am: I’m so sorry, Dean. I’ll call him immediately._

He calls the station to have Gabriel cut off the conversation about their personal lives and misses Dean’s return text.

“Well if it isn’t the Procrastinating Part-Time Lover himself,” Gabe says.

“Do not put me on live, Gabe,” Cas growls.

“Too late!” Gabe says, and Cas hears his line connect and Gabe’s voice grow a little distant, as if he’s on speakerphone. “C.J.! How nice of you to call our humble little morning show!” Gabe says, and he knows for sure now that he is live. He drops his face into his hand and turns down the radio to avoid the echoing from the five-second delay.

“And how rude of you to splatter my personal life onto the airwaves,” he grumbles.

“Give our listeners the scoop, alright? They’re really curious about this whole future one-night stand thing.”

“Gabe…”

“Really! They don’t understand how you guys aren’t dating. Most of them think this counts as dating.”

“I think both parties have to agree to that, and that is not our agreement.”

“But why make an agreement at all? Some people say this can’t count as a hookup because it’s not spontaneous.”

“Better a lack of spontaneity than ill-intended consequences,” Cas says. “Now…”

“Some callers say that you guys are being really smart about it, and others say that you’re both only going to get hurt in the end.”

“Well, I…”

“And some people say you’re the bad guy here, stringing him along after his breakup. That one hurt, bro.”

Gabe continues talking about the opinions of some other listeners, but Cas tunes him out for a moment as he ponders the last statement. Is he stringing him along? Is this agreement harmful to Dean in some way? Cas has accepted that he’ll probably be hurting when it’s over, but he doesn’t want that for Dean.

“Gabe, we have Hottie on the line!” Zar says with glee, and Castiel’s stomach drops to his feet as he breaks out of his thoughts.

“Hottie, you’re live on the air! We still have C.J. on, too!” Gabe calls.

“Hey Gabe, Zar. Hey C.J.,” Dean greets them; his voice is softer on Cas’ name than the others.

“Hello D- uh, Hottie.” A belly laugh rips out of Dean and Cas can practically see him throwing himself back. He chuckles softly and wishes they were in the same room instead of on their phones on some half-assed morning show.

“I like it, C.J. I think when we get together you should call me that,” Dean teases.

“I think not,” he responds in kind, making Dean laugh yet again. A sharp pain shoots through his chest as he realizes how much he’ll miss that laugh.

“Anyway,” he says, “I just wanted to call and say, you know, that it upsets me to hear that people are giving Ca-... C.J. crap about this whole thing. I think it’s awesome the way he’s stuck with me. You know, unlike most one-night stands, this is really, you know, kind of liberating. He’s a genuinely nice guy with a huge heart and we’ve been really clear about what we agreed to do. How many people can say that about their sexual encounters?”

“So you agreed to this, why?” Zar asks.

“Because… well, I know people can’t see him ‘cause this is radio, but if you could see him, damn. He’s hot.” Cas smothers a snicker as Dean continues, “Plus, I was going through a rough time and I just wanted to feel good and forget sh-... stuff, and it was the same for him, and we liked each other, so we said what the hell? We both wanted the same thing. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, and neither was he.”

“But C.J.’s not opposed to dating people,” Gabe points out. “I mean, he was dating before you. He enjoys being in a committed relationship. The whole one-night stand thing is really unusual for him.”

Dean pauses and Cas isn’t sure what to make of it. He’d told Dean about his hope to have another relationship eventually the night they met and Dean hadn’t seemed ruffled. “Uh… well, yeah, I know, I’m just saying that’s, um… not our agreement.”

“So if he were to go on a date, that wouldn’t be breaking the agreement, right?” Gabe asks. Cas considers fratricide as he shreds the remains of his bagel to crumbs.

“Uh, well, no, I guess not…” Dean stammers as Cas says, “Gabriel! We are done here. I’m not dating anyone right now. Period.”

“I don’t understand what the problem is, C.J.. Hottie’s cool with it. Hey, we could take calls, set you up with a listener!”

“I’m hanging up now. Talk about your own pathetic life instead of mine,” Cas says furiously as he punches the button on his phone and shoves it across the table, sending it skittering onto the floor. He turns up the radio again just in time to hear his brother say, “Well, more to come on that developing situation, folks! Hee hee! Alrighty, moving on.…” He turns off the radio in disgust.

Cas’ phone buzzes with a new message:

_To Cas 8:55am: Well that was fun_

_To Dean 8:56am: I am so sorry._

_To Cas 8:56am: Don’t worry about it_

_To Dean 8:57am: I do worry about it. It wasn’t right for Gabe to talk about us on the radio or to try to interfere._

_To Cas 9:00am: Don’t worry about it. Gabe has a big mouth but that’s not on you. And you can date whoever you want, you know._

Castiel really doesn’t want to discuss this, not like this. He doesn’t want to explain to Dean, who clearly isn’t interested in anything with him beyond their agreement, how thinking about anyone other than Dean feels wrong. He’s spent so much time thinking of the man — about his eyes, his hands, his kind, sweet soul, about everything they’ll do together... Cas sighs. _Time to get this back on track._

_To Dean 9:04am: You know what I want?_

_To Cas 9:04am: What?_

_To Dean 9:05am: I want to break a bed frame_

_To Dean 9:05am: With you ;)_

_To Cas 9:06am: Dude, that is NOT fair_

_To Cas 9:06am: I’m at work_

Cas can’t help but snicker. He loves knowing that he’s having an effect on the sexy mechanic.

_To Dean 9:07am: I’m not_

_To Dean 9:07am: In fact, I’m all alone at home and I’m feeling the need to get out some of my frustration with this day. Do you know how I can relieve my tension, Dean?_

_To Cas 9:09am: Fuck_

_To Cas 9:10am: You’re killing me Cas_

_To Dean 9:10am: Am I? Sounds like you need some tension relief, too. You could join me._

_To Cas 9:11am: I’m at work!_

_To Dean 9:11am: That’s too bad. :( Guess I’ll have to relieve this tension all by myself..._

_To Cas 9:12am: You. Are. Killing. Me._

Cas chuckles at Dean’s text as he cleans up the kitchen. If Dean could only see him now… well, he’d know he’s not doing anything sexy. But since Dean can’t see him, he doesn’t need to know that.

_To Dean 9:13am: What do you suggest for tension relief?_

_To Cas 9:14am: Yoga, massage, shower… definitely NOT what you’re trying to make me think of right now_

Cas smiles wickedly at the thought of Dean trying to text at work without anyone else growing suspicious of the content of his texts. He imagines Dean sitting in the office, or maybe the bathroom… in his coveralls, a grease smear across his forehead, hands trembling… _Fuck_. Cas takes the stairs two at a time and stumbles into his bedroom. He yanks the drawer of his bedside table open to reveal his new favorite toy, the one that makes him think of Dean, the one he uses when his thoughts of Dean become too much. It’s been getting a lot of use lately. He places it beside him carefully to text Dean:

_To Dean 9:18am: I love massages… hands all over me… showers… water making everything extra slick… yoga… do you know just how flexible I am?_

_To Cas 9:20am: Fuck Cas_

_To Dean 9:20am: That’s what I want you to do, yes_

_To Cas 9:21am: Fuck I gotta go. My boss keeps looking my way. Fuck you’re so hot. I can’t wait to get my hands on you._

_To Dean 9:22am: Okay, you get back to work. I’ll just be here at home, working off some tension, thinking of you working… hard…_

He smooths a hand over himself as he waits for Dean’s response.

_To Cas 9:27am: Shit, he just came over to speak to me and I had to hide my bulge behind a car. Damn it. We need to make plans. Soon._

_To Dean 9:28am: I look forward to it. ;)_

Cas stops texting Dean, not wanting to get him in trouble despite how fun it is to tease him mercilessly. He’s still stressed out over the morning but he feels a bit better since talking to Dean, even if it was just sexting. He decides he’s not really in the mood to use the toy, though, so he settles for jerking off and fantasizing about his hand being Dean’s.

Masturbation helps, but it doesn’t quite put him at ease the way seeing Dean does, so after doing a few chores he picks up a couple of subs and stops at Dean’s workplace before heading to his office. He’s bent over an engine and Cas admires the view through the window between the waiting area and the work bays. Rufus, his boss, grumbles his usual greeting and calls for Dean through the intercom, and Dean’s smile upon seeing Cas lights up the gloom that had settled on his day.

“Hey, Cas,” he grins, his eyes lighting up in surprise at the bags in Cas’ hands.

“Hello, Dean.”

“That’s Hottie to you,” he winks as he leads them to the breakroom. Cas rolls his eyes behind Dean’s back.

“I’m concerned that you would want to be called that at your age,” Cas retorts, and Dean scowls at him good-naturedly.

“‘At my age,’ geez,” Dean mutters. “Siddown.”

The men sit and talk about anything except the events of the morning, and soon they are back to their usual repartee. It feels so pleasant and normal and _right_ , Cas thinks and sighs to himself… or so he thought.

“What’s with the big sigh?”

Cas scrambles to come up with an answer that sounds reasonable. “Uh, nothing much. Just thinking.” _Yes, and it’s not even really a lie._

“About what?” _Crap_.

“About how much I want you,” he smiles coyly. _Yes, also not really a lie._

Dean gives him a scrutinizing look but drops whatever question was forming in his mind. “Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. I had to go jerk off in the bathroom.” Cas laughs and Dean leans in closer and nearly whispers, “Are you really that flexible? ‘Cause I’ll expect you to prove it when we get together.”

Cas is grateful and a little sad for the diversion back to their roles: that of future one-time lovers. He leans toward Dean and says, with a wink, “Very, very flexible.” Dean groans and Cas chuckles as they continue eating in silence.

“So, can you, you know…?” Dean says after a few minutes as he’s collecting the wrappers and used napkins from the table. Cas is amused at Dean’s poor effort to be casual about the question that’s probably been burning a hole into his brain. He knows that if the situation was reversed, he’d be going out of his mind with the visual of Dean pleasuring himself.

“Are you referring to auto-fellatio?” Cas asks nonchalantly, and he knows he’s correct by the blush searing Dean’s cheeks.

“Uh, yeah,” he confirms as he turns toward the counter, ostensibly to tidy up the paper plates and salt and pepper shakers that really don’t need tidying. A thrill shoots up Castiel’s spine at the way he’s affecting the gorgeous man. Maybe Dean would never want to date a man like Cas, but at least Cas can shake him up. Maybe Dean will even remember him out of the long line of one-night stands. He can only hope. He stands and boxes Dean in from behind, placing his hands on either side of the counter.

“The answer is yes, I can,” he whispers, lips grazing Dean’s ear purposely, “and if I can do that, think of what I can do with you.” He squeezes Dean’s hip briefly as he pushes off the counter and gives the man space. It is, after all, his workplace, and he doesn’t want Dean to get in trouble.

“I can cancel this Ren Faire thing this weekend,” Dean says, voice tremulous and low as he white-knuckles the counter.

“No, you go have fun. I’ll wait for you,” Cas says with amusement, reaching out and grasping his forearm affectionately. Dean turns his hand up so that he’s grasping Cas’ arm in return and he fixes an intense gaze upon him, and for a moment the mood is serious and heavy with something unsaid. But then Dean licks his lips and flashes his megawatt smile, and he promises to slay a dragon in Cas’ honor.

“Well, aren’t you my knight in shining armor,” Cas teases, playing along with the mood change as he picks up his phone from the table and slips it into his pocket. He barely catches something warm and anxious on Dean’s face before fully facing the man, finding the devil-may-care smirk back in place. Dean says something flippant, as seems to be his way when he’s nervous. They say their goodbyes and Cas is suddenly at his office, so absorbed in thought about why in the world Dean would be nervous that he doesn’t remember the journey at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of drama coming up in the next chapter...
> 
> For Dean’s POV, including a little self-lovin’ at work, check out chapter 7 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479)
> 
> Song referenced in this chapter: “Bye Bye Bye” by N Sync


	8. Chapter 8

Dean is full of stories of the Renaissance Faire when he returns on Tuesday. He tells them all to Cas via text, since he needs to catch up on work he missed when he took the extra day off on Monday and won’t have time to stop for an extended lunch. Cas misses seeing him, but reminds himself that it’s just a day and he still has Dean’s attention… at least until the hookup is over.

And speaking of the hookup, Dean’s texts throughout Tuesday are downright steamy. It seems Dean is more than ready for their one-night stand. As much as Cas hates that it will mean the end of the line for them, he has to admit that he wants the man badly. Dean’s texts aren’t helping him forget the fact, either. Cas answers in kind, even if he maybe wants to say something else.

_To Cas 8:47am: Hey gorgeous… thinking about you_

_To Cas 8:50am: Can’t wait to pound that hot ass of yours_

_To Dean 8:55am: Me too :)_

_To Cas 12:41pm: Missed having lunch with you today_

_To Cas 12:42pm: I kept picturing you spread out like a feast across your desk_

_To Dean 12:44pm: So is that why you keep bringing me lunch? ;)_

_To Cas 6:20pm: Wish you were here_

_To Cas 6:21pm: We could Netflix and chill ;p_

_To Dean 6:30pm: We do enjoy watching Netflix, don’t we? :)_

_To Cas 8:13pm: Eating the worst microwave meal ever because I haven’t done groceries_

_To Cas 8:15pm: I’d much rather be eating you_

_To Dean 8:20pm: You should’ve mentioned it earlier. I could’ve dropped some groceries by._

_To Dean 8:20pm: Naked, of course. ;)_

 

The rest of the week is much the same as it usually is, only their texting is more explicit and their lunches involve more frequent touching of arms, shoulders, and backs. It’s thrilling and Cas constantly feels on edge, the desire simmering throughout his days and nights. He wants this man so badly. The lustfulness that drove him to the bars the night they met is back. It’s not the same, exactly; while that lust was born of frustration and the need for his own gain, this one is born of connection and the need to physically express that connection for their mutual gain.

Seeing Dean on Friday for lunch gives Cas the push he needs. He’s absolutely gorgeous in his faded red t-shirt and dirty jeans, sweat glistening off his brow from lugging an engine out of a ‘76 Chevy. He’s been flirting shamelessly with Cas all through lunch, and it’s when Cas realizes he wants to shove their half-eaten sandwiches onto the breakroom floor and lick the whipped cream from Dean’s chocolate cream pie off his chest that he says something.

“How about tonight, Dean? Do you want to fuck me tonight?” he asks over the lip of his water bottle in the lowest register he can manage. He uses the seductive look he’s been perfecting in front of the mirror, and it seems to be working if Dean’s choking is any indication.

“Fuck yes, Cas,” Dean rasps once he’s caught his breath. “Yes, I want you. You have no idea.” They make a plan.

Just before 5:00, Dean calls Cas.

“So, uh, I know we’re getting together at 8:00 at your place, but uh, I was just wonderin’ if you maybe wanna have supper together first? I don’t know if you’ve eaten or not, or if you had anything else you had to do before we got together, but I’m starving and there’s that new seafood place you mentioned…”

Cas is surprised and secretly delighted at the chance to spend more time with Dean, but tries to sound casual. “Sure. I had nothing planned… other than, you know, _prep_.” He can’t help but tease him a bit.

“Such a cocktease,” Dean mutters, but Cas can hear the smile in his voice.

They agree to meet at 6:30 at the restaurant. Cas left work early and has already groomed himself in preparation for the evening, but now thinks he’s dressed too casually. He changes into a pair of stylish dress pants Anna bought him and a white shirt with a blue sport coat. He eschews the tie in favor of popping open the top two buttons of his shirt. He finger-combs his hair into messy waves and spritzes cologne onto his neck. Satisfied with his look, he turns and smacks into Gabe.

“Don’t you have a home?” Cas grumbles as he strides past his brother into the kitchen. He pours a glass of water and offers it to Gabe, then pours another for himself and leans against the counter.

“Yeah, but you’re here,” Gabe answers with a gleam in his eyes. “So, no moving van needed for tonight, right?” He hoists himself onto the counter and sips from his glass.

“No, Gabe.”

“This is it. The big night.”

“Yes, Gabe.”

“Do you dress up for all your one-night stands?”

“Gabe…”

“Sorry, sorry,” Gabe says, hands up in surrender. “So you wanna grab some dinner before Loverboy comes over? You’ll need the energy, and I can ply you with brotherly advice.”

“I’m getting dinner with Dean,” Cas mumbles as he turns to place his glass in the sink.

“Oh ho ho, what is this? You’re going on an actual date with this guy?”

He rolls his eyes. He knew Gabe would make a big deal out of this. “No, I’m not. We are going to eat supper because we both need to eat and it’s mutually convenient.” He begins unloading his dishwasher to give himself something to do.

“Uh huh.”

“Go away.”

“Do you want to date this guy, C.J.?”

He looks up from his task. “Dean. His name is Dean. And that is not our agreement.”

“Yeah, I get that. And yet, I can’t help but get the feeling that you’d like it to be more.”

Castiel sighs at his brother. “Is there a reason you came over, Gabe?”

“Just checking on ya.”

“Just checking on me.”

“Yup.”

“Uh huh.”

Gabe runs his fingers through his hair in an uncharacteristically nervous move. “Look man, just keep a clear head, okay?”

Castiel can’t help but think he’s being cryptic, but he lets it go since questioning him would only lead to more talking, which he doesn’t want. “Okay,” he says.

“And have fun, eh? But try not to scare the neighbors.”

“Goodbye, Gabe.”

Cas waits outside of the restaurant, soaking in the late-day sun. He’s nervous. He wonders if all people are nervous before their one-night stands. He has no real point of reference. Cas takes a few breaths to clear his mind, and when he does his thoughts float to his ex. He felt nervous when they were first dating, an excited anticipation that made him want to look a little nicer, to be a little more on his game. He had no idea how much that game would consume him, how that excitement would eventually turn to anxiety and a sort of dissociation from himself. Being with Dean has been nothing like that. Not that they’re dating, he keeps reminding himself. But still. He smiles as the familiar black beauty roars into the parking lot, right on time. He watches Dean exit his car and walk across the parking lot toward him and, _oh_ , he’s so beautiful, inside and out. And for one night, he’s all his. His nervousness fades, the usual excitement at seeing the man taking over. Just as he’s within reach, however, Cas has a moment of paralyzing doubt. Can he touch him? Should he greet him with a kiss? Should he comment on his appearance?

“Hey Cas,” Dean greets him softly.

“Hey Dean,” he responds. His eyes wander of their own accord, taking in Dean’s styled hair, his clean-shaven face, his broad shoulders, the way his dress shirt and pants hug him in all the right ways. He wants to tell him how handsome he looks, how beautifully his shirt brings out his eyes, how happy he is just to spend time with him, how he could just sit and talk with and stare at him all night, but this isn’t a date. “You look…” _Not a date, not a date, not a date!_ “...so fucking hot. You’re making me _very hungry_.” It feels awkward to say, even though it’s true. It’s just not the whole truth.

There’s a subtle shift in Dean’s eyes that he’s not sure how to read. “You know, if I didn’t need the energy, I would take you home right now,” Dean purrs, raking his eyes over Cas. “So, let’s not delay, hmm?” He gestures toward the door with his hand and opens it, allowing Cas to step in ahead of him.

The conversation feels a bit awkward at first, both of them hyper-aware of what’s to come… and what will come after that. But with the appetizers (oysters and a salad for Cas, bruschetta and shrimp cocktail for Dean) comes their familiar banter, and they forget to be nervous. They take their time, spending close to three hours simply talking and enjoying the rich, satisfying meal. When they’ve each paid for their own meals, they leave together and linger in the parking lot.

“So I’ll follow you, okay?” Dean says as they’re about to part.

“Would you follow me anywhere?” Cas asks in a falsetto, fluttering his eyelashes exaggeratedly. Dean laughs.

“Hell yeah, I would,” he says easily, then clears his throat and waves his hand. “I mean, look at you,” he continues with a leer that looks a bit too practiced. Cas dismisses the man’s behavior as nervousness. His own stomach is jumping and twisting and he feels a bit nauseous.

“I’ll see you there,” he rumbles, daring to encircle Dean’s wrist in his hand and pull the man close. “Don’t be late,” he speaks over his soon-to-be-lover’s lips. Dean’s breath stutters as he nods.

The nausea doesn’t abate as he gets closer to his house; in fact, it gets worse. He’s never felt so nervous that he wanted to vomit, but that’s precisely what’s happening now. He taps his foot rapidly in the footwell as he waits for the red light to change and wills himself to take deep breaths. _Deep breaths, deep breaths…_

He sees a gas station and pulls over suddenly, then makes a run for the bathroom. A few minutes later, feeling clammy but seemingly better, he buys a bottle of water and walks out to his car. Dean is parked next to it.

“You alright?” Dean asks through the rolled-down window.

“Yes, sorry. I’m fine,” he tries to reassure the man. “Just, uh, needed to make a quick stop.” He lifts his purchased bottle of water to show Dean. “I’ll see you at home.” Dean nods and rolls the window up.

Cas takes a sip of water and a few deep breaths before starting the car. Within a few minutes, he feels the nausea roaring back, angry and seeking revenge for being temporarily quelled. He rolls down the window and drives faster, losing Dean along the way.

He barely makes it into the house before everything goes to hell.

“Cas?” Dean calls a few minutes later, but Cas cannot respond before his body revolts again. He hears Dean at the door and he feels like he wants to die — from the agony that’s gutting him like a fish or from humiliation, he’s not sure. “Cas?”

“I think… I have to… reschedule,” Cas calls weakly, taking tiny breaths and trying to sound like he has a handle on things, which his body assures him he does not. He feels tears welling in his eyes.

“Cas? Open up.”

“No, I…” His body rejects its contents once again, and now Dean is knocking insistently.

“C’mon, Cas, let me in.”

“No!” He doesn’t want Dean to see him like this, stripped of most of his clothes and body surging in the worst ways possible.

“Cas…”

His response to Dean’s call is to vomit and shake. He hears the doorknob rattle, but Cas had the presence of mind to lock it before he offered himself in sacrifice to the porcelain god. The bathroom reeks of waste and Castiel knows he will never again be able to face that gorgeous, perfect man outside his door if he opens it. After tonight, he’d be shocked if Dean wanted to bother anyway. Nothing like wretched illness to kill the mood, now and forever.

“Cas, seriously. I know how to pick a lock, man. Let me in so I can help you.”

“I don’t… need… help,” Cas manages to eke out between panting breaths. “Please… I can… take care… of myself.” He empties his body again violently, then flushes the toilet and lays on the cool tile to try to stem the tide. Every time he thinks his body is wrung out for good, it proves him wrong. The pain is horrible, and he wonders why the Grim Reaper is such a damn sadist. Tiny moans escape from his throat.

“Cas, man…”

“I’m fine!” he tries to yell, but his voice breaks and he’s thoroughly convinced he sounds pathetic.

There’s a pause before Dean says, “You know, if the thought of being with me is making you sick, all you had to do was say so.”

It’s a joke, Cas knows it is; he can hear the teasing lilt of his voice, can visualize the smirk lifting one side of his smart mouth, his eyes dancing with mischief. But it’s the furthest thing from the truth, and he starts to sob, hot tears dripping to the floor.

“Oh Cas, no no no, I’m sorry, it was a joke,” Dean calls gently through the door. “I do that when I’m… fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He can only sob harder and curl into himself; no longer in control of his body, he surrenders to the will of the illness that ravages it.

Cas doesn’t know how much time has passed; he alternates between staring at the toilet and expelling the contents of his body into it. He thinks dully that his internal organs should be splashing down into the bowl any time now. He’s hot and he’s cold. For a while he heard Dean saying soothing things to him, but he doesn’t hear him any more. He’s grateful that the man doesn’t have to see him like this. He wonders if he should attempt to crawl to his bed and sleep it off, but knows he’s too weak to make it back to the bathroom quickly when he needs to. He breathes shallowly through his mouth and starts to float into darkness. Mumbled voices reach his ears but he can’t understand them.

He hears rattling and creaking, then a small current of air moves across him and makes him shiver. “Come on, there, big boy, we gotta go,” a familiar voice says. He feels pressure on both sides of his body and realizes he’s being lifted. “Gotta get you dressed a bit more than you are. Let’s go out here,” the voice directs him, but he can’t follow. His legs are useless and he feels sick again. Whatever or whoever is carrying him turns him around and he vomits into the tub. The murmured voices return, and something soft shimmies up his legs. Another soft thing wraps around his arms and back.

“Gonna be okay for the ride to the ER or do we have to call an ambulance?” the familiar voice asks. He mumbles some sort of protest as he’s dragged out of the bathroom. His head hurts badly and it lolls onto the warm, bony pillow next to it that smells much better than the bathroom did.

“He’s got a fever, I think,” another familiar voice says, or maybe it’s the same one. He feels his stomach roll and he gags; something is shoved near his face. He nearly collapses to his knees as the vomit and bile burn his throat.

“Come on, Cas, we’ve got you. We’re going for a ride,” the second voice says, and how does it know his name? He nods his head before the darkness folds in on him again.

The air is sterile and the room is dim when Cas wakes up. His throat is parched and his mouth tastes like shit. He smacks his lips and remembers why he feels so awful. He groans. Movement to his right startles him.

“Hey, Handsome,” Dean whispers.

Cas huffs. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he replies, and Dean grins.

“Nah. You’re still handsome,” Dean assures him before Gabe pipes up, “You look like you were tied to a car and dragged down a rutted dirt road while hyenas chased you.” Dean glares at him.

“That’s an odd yet apt description of how I feel,” Cas rasps. Dean pours him a cup of water from a pink plastic-and-styrofoam pitcher, and he takes a few tentative sips. When he doesn’t feel his gut protest, he gulps down the rest, then reclines on the pillow. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening,” Cas murmurs as he turns his head toward Dean.

“Hey, it’s not your fault, man.”

“I’m so embarrassed…”

“Oh yeah, you should’ve seen yourself,” Gabe comments. “Hell, most hookups woulda run away as fast as their legs could take ‘em, but Hottie called me and then he picked the lock and helped me haul your ass outta there and get you here.”

 _Oh, God_. “You came into the bathroom?” he asks weakly.

“Oh yeah he did, and it wasn’t pretty…”

“Gabe, shut the fuck up, would you?” Dean growls. “He was _sick_. He had fuckin’ food poisoning!”

“...and he stuck around anyway,” Gabe finishes, heedless of Dean’s attempt to quiet him.

“Oh my God,” Cas groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m just…”

“Shh,” Dean comforts him, threading his fingers tenderly through Cas’ hair. Cas feels the tears forming in the corners of his eyes again. He swallows and closes his eyes, leaning into the touch he may not otherwise get to experience once he’s out of the hospital. Dean is a kind, decent man; it doesn’t surprise Cas that he helped him, even if it was probably appalling. “Just rest, okay? They gave you something for the nausea and you’ve got some fluids and antibiotics in your IV. You’ll be good to go before you know it.”

A couple of hours later, after a check by the doctor and what felt like an eternity waiting on the discharge paperwork and his antibiotics prescription to be filled, Cas leaves the hospital. It’s still dark, but the sky is hinting at the impending dawn. They drive back to Cas’ in Dean’s car, and both men help Cas into the house and into bed. Cas notices the disarray as they make their way through the house; clothing and his wallet and shoes are scattered across the floor, a trash can filled with vomit sits near the couch, and the light and vent are on in the bathroom, towels and more clothes spread about and thrown haphazardly. He turns away, the heat of embarrassment making his face warm and prickly. They tuck him into bed, an empty trash can by his side in case the vomiting returns. He hears them murmuring outside his door as he is falling asleep. Just as he’s slipping under, he feels a press of something warm against the top of his head. He smiles and he sleeps.

Soft voices and the clanking of dishes wake him the next day. His drapes are drawn closed, blocking most of the light that might give him a clue about the time. He paws around the top of his nightstand for his phone, but it isn’t there. Cas sits up carefully, testing himself to see how he feels. He’s pleased to discover that, although he’s weak and nauseous, he doesn’t think he’s going to need to sprint to the bathroom. He reaches for the bathrobe that was discarded at the end of the bed and slides a pair of slippers on his feet. He stands and nearly regrets it as he sways. Reaching for the nightstand to steady himself, he straightens up again and manages to shuffle to his bedroom door and crack it open. Three heads swivel around at the sound.

“Hey Castiel,” Anna says as she stands. The two men behind her are faster, though, and they catch Cas’ arms as he releases the door frame.

“Careful, kiddo,” Gabe cautions him as Dean says, “Hey, Cas, let us help you, okay?”

“You’re here,” Cas says to Dean, confused as to why he would be here. He had done so much already.

“I am,” he confirms. “Come on, let’s sit.” They take him to the table and gently lower him to a chair.

“How are you feeling?” his sister asks as she cards her fingers through his hair.

“Like hell,” Cas answers honestly.

“Do you want some soup? Toast?”

“I don’t want to see food ever again.”

The three chuckle as Cas rests his chin in his hand. Pills and a cup of water are pushed his way. He takes them without asking what they are.

“Well, you have a little bit of color back, anyway. You scared us, bud,” Gabe says. “I thought Hottie was gonna break down the door.”

“If he’d gone quiet for too long, I would have.”

Castiel is reminded of how he probably sounded on the other side of the door and hides his face. He feels a little sick again.

“You should try to eat something, Castiel. You have nothing in you,” Anna urges him.

“Right now, I prefer it that way.”

Despite his siblings’ cajoling, he refuses any food and insists that he just needs some time alone, heading back to the comfort of his bed to make his point. Everything hurts, but he’s grateful that his innards are staying put. He thinks he hears the click of the door closing as he falls back asleep.

Several hours later, a knock on the door interrupts Cas’ fourth episode in a row of _The Golden Girls_. He notices it’s just past six. He shuffles out to answer, only to find that Dean is already inside, two cups in his hands and his laptop tucked under his arm. He looks relieved to see Cas for some reason.

“Hey. Brought you some ginger tea. Sam told me it’s good for nausea.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He shuffles his feet. “Uh, sorry for just walking in, but I knocked a couple of times and you didn’t come to the door. I was worr… I, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, wondering why Dean was so concerned and feeling comforted by it. “Sometimes with the TV on I can’t hear if anyone is at the door.”

“No problem. So, uh, did you want this, or…?”

“Oh, yes. My mind isn’t working all that well. Come sit.” He smiles weakly and hopes it conveys his appreciation of Dean’s thoughtfulness. It seems to, because Dean returns it, stronger and brighter. _God, he’s beautiful_.

Dean doesn’t ask him if he wants food. He sits companionably with Cas and drinks something that smells sweet. “Cinnamon vanilla tea,” he explains. “Wasn’t sure if the smell of coffee would make you sick. Makes me sick when I’m sick, so… you know, just figured I’d not make things worse for you.” He shrugs and takes a sip.

“Thank you, Dean,” he says, smiling again at Dean’s thoughtfulness. They sit a while longer, and Cas starts feeling nauseous for a completely different reason. “Um, Dean, I just wanted to let you know that if this incident turns you off, I understand and I won’t hold it against you if you want to drop our agreement.”

Dean looks incredulous. “Seriously? That’d be pretty lame of me.”

“Well, seeing people at their worst is not really an aphrodisiac.” He stares down at his tea and waits for Dean’s decision.

“I don’t need an aphrodisiac to want you,” Dean smirks as he taps Cas’ cup with his own. Cas shakes his head as a tiny smile sneaks onto his face. He wants to be hopeful, but he doesn’t want to trap him.

“I’m just saying…”

“Listen, I know you’re embarrassed, but you don't need to be, I promise. You’re still fuckin’ hot and I still want to pound your ass. Maybe when you’re feeling better, though. Want you to enjoy it,” he winks. Cas’ smile grows wider at Dean’s gentle teasing, despite his efforts to wallow in his humiliation. Dean sighs and nudges him. Cas meets his eyes, his green, green eyes that haunt his daydreams.

“Cas, I trust you, so I’m gonna tell you something I’ve never told anyone else. But you take this with you to your grave, alright?” Cas nods. “Okay, so this one time I was visiting Sam at college and I was going home with this guy. We’re heading to his place, and all of a sudden I feel sick. Like, seriously ill, just out of nowhere. I feel like something bad is gonna happen. I tell the guy to pull over but he thinks I’m joking or something, until I pull a plastic bag off the floor of his car that I think is a trash bag and I puke into it.”

Cas cringes in empathy. “Oh no…”

“Oh, I’m not done. So while I’m puking, I’m losing control everywhere else. I’m a fuckin’ disaster, Cas. When the puking stops my gut is still killing me, and now I realize I’m sitting in something.”

Cas knows all too well where this story is going. “Oh… oh no, Dean…”

“Oh yeah. I fuckin’ shit my pants in this guy’s fuckin’ Neon. Couldn’t control it. So now I’m hoping the guy doesn’t notice, but of course he does, ‘cause you can’t hide that in a fuckin’ tiny car. He pulls over and yells at me, tells me I gotta get out. So I got out and threw him a few bucks for, you know, cleaning, and I followed those blue hospital signs until I found it. Turns out I had the stomach flu.”

“Oh Dean,” Cas says, his fingers grazing Dean’s toned forearm to comfort him, “That’s horrible.”

“Fucking embarrassing is what it was.”

“But it wasn’t your fault. You were ill. That man should’ve never left you alone. What a horrible human being.” He feels angry at the nameless, faceless individual who would leave Dean all alone, sick and hurting.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I think his pot stash was in that bag, and the smell probably never came out of those fabric seats.”

Cas snickers and offers his hand for a high five to Dean, who slaps it.

“Neon’s a shitty car, anyway,” Cas comments, making Dean laugh heartily.

“So see, Cas? It could always be worse.”

“I guess it could,” he agrees. The men smile at each other over their cups for some time before Cas says, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“My pleasure, Cas,” he says, resting his hand atop Cas’ fingers. The tender gesture warms his heart more than it’s supposed to, given their agreement. He smirks to cover up the longing he has to continue the tender touches between them.

“I’ll be very happy to give you pleasure, Dean,” he says.

Dean smiles. “Mmm, looking forward to it,” he purrs. “In the meantime, wanna watch a movie? Brought the laptop in case you didn’t have a player in your room.”

“My room?” _My room where we were supposed to be making lo… having sex last night? Having hard, loud, one-night sex that means nothing?_

“Uh… or the living room, whatever. I was just thinking in case you wanted to lay down…”

Cas smiles in reassurance and curses himself for his foolishness. “That sounds great, Dean.”

Dean hovers behind Cas, making sure he is steady on his feet. They settle on Cas’ bed, Cas under the covers and Dean on top, and watch _The Shawshank Redemption_ , which they’ve both seen a hundred times but still love. Toward the end, Cas feels himself falling asleep, leaning dangerously close to the warmth of Dean’s shoulder. He forces himself awake and upright several times. Dean stiffens each time Cas sits back up until he finally says, “Okay, sleepyhead, time for bed.” He makes sure Cas has water and his medications by his bed before turning off the light.

“Good night, Cas. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Dean whispers even though they’re the only two in the house. If Cas didn’t know any better, he’d say that Dean sounded reluctant to leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Cas!
> 
> For Dean’s POV, including what was happening while Cas was out of it and some Dean/Gabe and Dean/Sam/Jess interactions, check out chapter 8 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479).


	9. Chapter 9

Cas spends most of Sunday in bed, and not for fun, which makes him frown every time he thinks about what could have been. He ignores all of his messages except for Dean’s.

_To Cas 4:22pm: How are you feeling?_

_To Dean 4:23pm: Like death warmed over._

_To Cas 4:23pm: That sucks, man. Are you eating anything?_

_To Dean 4:24pm: No. Looking at food makes me want to vomit. I’ve done enough of that, thank you._

_To Cas 4:26pm: Sorry man._

_To Dean 4:27pm: Thank you. Believe it or not, I’ve felt worse._

_To Cas 4:27pm: Really?_

_To Dean 4:28pm: Dengue Fever when I was 15 and we were in Africa. Like the worst flu you’ve ever had. I wanted to tear my eyes out but it hurt too much to lift my arms to do so._

_To Cas 4:29pm: Dude._

_To Dean 4:29pm: Except for that illness, I loved Africa. The people were amazing._

_To Cas 4:30pm: You must’ve fit right in._

Cas smiles at the message, not quite sure how to take it, when another pops in:

_To Cas 4:30pm: Because of all your travels and stuff._

Ah yes, of course. Because he’s worldly, not because Dean thinks he’s amazing.

_To Dean 4:31pm: I think you would have fit in, too. You have a joie de vivre that they would have appreciated._

_To Cas 4:31pm: Don’t go trying to impress me with French._

_To Dean 4:32pm: Don’t worry. That and “croissant” are all I know. :P_

_To Cas 4:33pm: Ha ha! Speaking of croissants, I can bring ham and cheese croissants for lunch tomorrow if you want. I know you don’t feel like eating but you probably should._

_To Dean 4:34pm: Thank you, but I’m not going to work tomorrow._

_To Cas 4:35pm: Good idea. I’ll check in with you tomorrow, make sure you haven’t dropped dead of starvation._

_To Dean 4:35pm: Are you sure you don’t want to consider the corpse thing? ;)_

_To Cas 4:36pm: Get some rest, weirdo LOL_

On Monday, although he feels marginally better, he sticks with his decision to stay home. He calls Jo to let her know he won’t be in.

“Milton and Associates, this is Jo.”

“Jo, this is Cas...tiel. Um, I won’t be in today.”

“Are you alright?” she asks, concern coloring her usual voice of professionalism tinged with her “don’t fuck with me” attitude. Now that he has met her mother, he sees the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“I’m fine. Well, no, not really, but I will be. Just under the weather.”

“Got a cold?”

“No. I am recovering from food poisoning.”

Jo gasps, then speaks rapidly. “Are you okay? Does Dean know? Or Gabe and Anna? Do you need anyth…”

“I’m fine, Jo,” he chuckles. “It was bad Friday night, but I’m on medication. Dean was with me when it happened, and he and Gabe took me to the hospital.”

“Dean was with you? Oh wait… Friday? The night you were… uh, never mind. I’m glad you’re on the mend. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jo hangs up, and Cas is left staring at the phone in bewilderment.

“I think life was easier when I was the boring man no one noticed,” Cas mutters to himself as he rolls over. But it wasn’t as much fun, his brain — or maybe his soul — reminds him before he falls asleep. When he awakes, he answers texts from Dean, Gabe, Anna, Zar, Zeke, Jo, and Jess. He smiles and decides an easy life is severely overrated.

Cas goes back to work on Tuesday and Dean pops in at lunchtime, bypassing Jo entirely as he walks into his office unannounced.

“How’re you feelin’?” Dean asks.

“A bit more human,” Cas says. “I’m tired. I’m forcing myself to at least have toast and applesauce, but I still really don’t want to eat.”

“Yeah, well, see what you get for eating salad? That shit’ll kill you.”

“Do you really think it was the salad? I would’ve guessed the oysters.”

“Could’ve been, but the doctor thought the salad was just as likely. Food poisoning from lettuce is pretty common, she said.”

“Well, that’ll teach me. Only fried food for both of us from here on out.” He winks and watches as a blush blooms inexplicably on Dean’s face.

“That’s the spirit!” he says with a light punch to Cas’ shoulder. “Hey, you wanna try some soup? My mom made some and I had extra. Figured I’d bring it over.” He shyly offers Cas a container of chicken and rice soup. It makes Cas think of his own mother and her affinity for soup, and he smiles.

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

Dean steps out to warm the soup in the microwave, then brings it back and blows on it gently (which no one has done for him since he was little, and Cas is touched by Dean’s kindness) before offering the bowl to Cas. He sits at the round table in his office and takes small sips of the salty broth.

“It’s delicious, Dean,” Cas compliments. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to keep all of it for yourself.”

“Nah,” he says. “Figured you’d need something to get you back on your feet. My mom’s soup always helped me.”

“Well, I can appreciate the magic of a parent’s homemade soup. It always tastes so much better than the canned variety.”

“That’s the love you taste,” Dean says. A dusty pink sweeps across his cheeks again. It’s so damn adorable, Cas thinks, even if he doesn’t understand why Dean would blush over a silly, sentimental joke.

“It must be,” Cas grins, and Dean grins back.

By some unspoken agreement, they decide not to hook up the following weekend, since Cas still doesn’t feel quite back to normal on Friday; instead, Dean stops by to check on him and to make sure he’s eating, and they listen to music for hours. Cas tells him about his time as a DJ and they talk about music editing and recording, something Cas learns Dean used to love doing just for fun. The following week Dean is on vacation with his brother, hiking and camping. From what Dean explained to him, the camping was his idea but the hiking was Sam’s, which doesn’t surprise him. The week after that, it’s Cas’ turn to be on vacation, flying out to his college friend’s wedding in Miami and spending time relaxing at the beach. He’s content to play wingman for his single friends; when they try to return the favor, he declines. And once they’re both healthy and in the same state again and have no other excuses to stop them from hooking up, they just… don’t.

He isn’t sure how Dean feels about it, but Cas is mostly content to let things lie until it happens. He knows it delays the inevitable, knows it will just make it harder to give up whatever is between them, but his heart keeps interfering with his brain’s reasoning. It’s made worse by his friends’ teasing, Anna’s sympathetic looks, and Gabe’s badgering. Gabe’s very public badgering.

“Okay, so I gotta ask our beloved listeners,” Gabe announces Wednesday on his morning show. Cas, who’s taken to listening to the show in his office after Gabe talked about them on air several weeks ago, turns his head toward the radio with squinted eyes and a sense of dread. “So you all remember me talking about my bro C.J. and his future one-night stand. Zar, you remember?”

“Oh, certainly, but do catch up those who may have missed.”

Gabe gives the recap for the listeners, then continues. “So, alright. I get that things come up. The whole testing thing, the move, then C.J. got sick, then they each had vacations… I get it. But it’s been awhile since they’ve had anything in their way, and yet they still haven’t hooked up. You can’t tell me that doesn’t mean something.”

“Maybe they’re having second thoughts,” Zar muses. “You know, maybe one of them isn’t attracted to the other anymore.”

“Yeah, maybe. I mean, it’s an awfully long time to wait just to hook up. Maybe Hottie saw my brother sick and just decided he can’t handle it. Or, you know, maybe C.J.’s just looking for a way to get out of this because he wants to actually date and have a relationship with someone and not just a quick bang. He’s all about keeping his commitments, though. Wouldn’t admit to actually _wanting a relationship_.”

Cas growls. He really hates his brother sometimes. He turns down the radio and calls the station, knowing he’s going to be put on the air but too angry to let him continue in this manner.

“Hang on one second,” Zar says once he answers and hears Cas. He connects the call only for Cas to hear a familiar voice already arguing with his brother, and his heart flutters.

“...ridiculous, man. I am _not_ having second thoughts about C.J., I’m just as attracted to him as I was the night we met, maybe more, and his being sick has nothing to do with anything. Just because I’m not jumping into his pants the minute I have a chance…”

Gabe interrupts Dean with, “Well, that’s what a one-night stand is, isn’t it, Hottie? ‘Cause that’s all you guys are… Oh, speaking of… hey, C.J.!”

“Gabe, I am _livid_ with you right now,” Cas snarls.

“What? Why?” Gabe asks insincerely, knowing full well why Cas is angry.

“You are meddling in things that are absolutely none of your business!”

“I’m merely suggesting…”

“D-... Hottie was nothing but kind and helpful when I was sick, you know that. He _called_ you and _took us to the hospital_ and _stayed_ there, and he helped me afterward as well.”

“Yeah, he did, but…”

“And we have talked and we are still planning to fulfill our agreement, but we will do it when we are ready, not when you think we should. Frankly, the fact that we’re talking about this to you is absurd.”

“I’m just saying that it seems like neither one of you is willing to get the show on the road, so why not just cancel the show? Say, ‘Hey, it was nice to meet you, but I’m looking for something else’?”

“We don’t _want_ to cancel the show,” Dean growls, but then asks quietly, “do we, C.J.?”

“No, we don’t,” Cas agrees with certainty, and he hears the relief in Dean’s exhale.

“Then get it over with so you can both move on! From what I understand, Hottie, you’ve sworn off relationships because yours have all sucked, and C.J., one-night stands aren’t even your thing!”

Cas is beginning to hate himself for confiding in his brother. “Gabriel,” Cas starts, but Gabe cuts him off.

“You’re putting your whole life on hold! Isn’t it gonna be awkward when you go out on a date with someone else, C.J.? I mean, how do you explain that? It’s kind of a weird thing to have hanging over your head.”

“As I’ve said before, I’m not planning any dates for now.”

“Except for the guy you’re going out with this weekend.”

 _Uh, what?_ “Uh, what? Gabe, I’m not going out with anyone this weekend.”

“Dude, your neighbor’s nephew who’s visiting this weekend? You told your sweet, elderly neighbor that you would take her shy, single gay great-nephew on his first guy-on-guy date when he visits. You told her back at Christmas. She’s very excited about it.”

 _Oh, dear God, no_. “I… completely forgot about that.” He sighs. “Well, I’m going to have to… not do that. I’m sure I can make other arrangements…”

“You’re not dating anyone, C.J.…”

“Shut up, Gabe…”

“C.J., it’s okay,” Dean interrupts the brothers. He sounds unnaturally cheerful and casual. “We’re not… you know. You made a commitment. You should keep it.”

“Yeah, C.J.. It doesn’t matter what you _want_. Suck it up,” Gabe taunts him. “Can’t _deviate_ from your _agreements_. Those are the rules.”

“Gabe…”

“Don’t grump at me, bud. They’re your rules.”

Castiel forgets he’s on live and hangs up. “Asshole,” he mutters. He shuts the radio off so he doesn’t have to hear the rest of what Gabe has to say.

Dean stops by with BLTs and iced tea at lunch. Cas’ mood has been dour since his brother’s meddling this morning and his reminder that he agreed to a date several months ago ( _Why did I ever do that?_ ), and Dean notices. He nudges Cas on his chin. “Hey, don’t let him get to you. That’s what he wants.”

“Why does he have to be such an asshole?” Cas gripes.

“‘Cause brothers are assholes,” Dean shrugs.

They eat in silence for a while, a strange tension filling the room.

“So, a date, huh? You excited?” he asks. There’s a hollowness to his voice that Cas can’t quite discern, but his heart seems to recognize. Cas shoots Dean a disdainful glare. “Guess not,” he laughs, a tittering that subsides into a nervous swallow. “Uh, I’m shit at dating, having not really done it, but uh, you looked great in that outfit you wore that night.” Cas doesn’t have to ask which night. “Those pants really hugged your ass. I mean, I’d wanna do ya if you were wearing them,” he jokes, and Cas smiles thinly.

“I think that was the point, wasn’t it?” Cas asks, and Dean presses his lips together tightly and nods, looking away.

Castiel is pissed — pissed that Gabriel had to open his big mouth, pissed that he has to go on this date, pissed that things are awkward between him and the man before him whose eyes have lost their sparkle. He stands abruptly and strides to the large window overlooking the parking lot and the park beyond it, and slams the side of his fist into the wall in resignation and frustration at this fucked-up situation.

“Hey, hey,” Dean hushes behind him, an arm around his shoulders and a hand holding his fist. “Shh, it’ll be okay.” He draws him into a side-hug without letting go of his hand.

Cas wants to melt into Dean’s touch, but he knows he shouldn’t. Instead, he side-eyes Dean and says, “You really think my ass looked good in those pants?” _Yes. Stick with safe territory._

“You know I did,” he smirks, a sad sort of half-smile. He lets go of Cas’ hand. He’s about to speak when Jo knocks at the door.

“Cas? Your 12:30 is here,” she informs him.

Dean drops his arm from Cas’ shoulders and Cas puts on his professional face before turning around to thank her. She eyes them dubiously but nods and leaves.

“That’s my cue,” Dean says needlessly. He clears Cas’ little meeting table and sighs before giving a small wave and heading out. Cas breathes deeply and wills away the dampness pooling in his eyes before he strides out to meet his client.

The rest of the day and all of Thursday and Friday, Cas is in a funk. It doesn’t help, or maybe it does, that Dean can’t get together for lunch. Cas recognizes that he’s grown too used to their lunches, and that it would probably be better if they stopped altogether. The deep sense of loss at the thought sneaks into his chest and makes him keep his office door closed so he can be alone. He really doesn’t want Jo or anyone else to witness his emotional turbulence… over a one-night stand, of all things. _Only I would get emotional over a one-night stand_ , he thinks to himself several times over the rest of the week.

_To Cas 3:49pm: Hey, you out of work yet?_

Usually on a Friday he would be by now, but he’s been so absorbed by his own thoughts that his work suffered.

_To Dean 3:52pm: Still at work. You?_

_To Cas 3:53pm: Heading out soon. Going out to Nightingale later. The ladies wanted to go back and they’re dragging some of the guys along. You gonna be there?_

He’s never wanted and not wanted something so much. Well, maybe one other thing.

_To Dean 3:55pm: Not sure_

_To Cas 3:55pm: You should. Hannah and Zeke are going, too. Apparently they’re all friends now._

He smiles a little at that.

_To Dean 3:56pm: That doesn’t surprise me. We both have wonderful friends. I’m glad they’re able to get along so well._

Actually, that will make it even harder when Dean and Cas finally hook up because it’ll mean avoiding everyone after, but Cas figures he’ll manage. He avoided most of those sorts of get-togethers when he was with Daphne, anyway, and he won’t make his friends choose between him and their new friends.

_To Cas 4:00pm: Come on. You’re stressed. Come work out some tension._

_To Dean 4:01pm: How do you know I’m stressed?_

_To Cas 4:05pm: I just do._

Cas sighs. He’s not sure how Dean knows, but it doesn’t make it any less true. On the one hand, he’d like to burrow away in a hole with a good book, a blanket, and his foul mood. On the other, it might be good to just… get out and forget himself for a while. It’s similar to how he felt the night he met Dean, only this time he’s not looking for a hookup. The hookup is, in fact, part of the issue. And yet… what if this is exactly what he needs? What if he’s complicating this with his tendency to care too much about others? What if he needs to remind himself that all he ever wanted was a good fuck?

_To Cas 4:10pm: Cas? You still there?_

_To Dean 4:14pm: Yes. Sorry. I do think I will join all of you tonight._

_To Cas 4:15pm: Sounds good. :) Now get out of work, would you? All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, they say._

Cas smiles. Yes, maybe he just needs to stop thinking.

_To Dean 4:17pm: I don’t know about Jack, but you’ll find I’m far from dull. And I know how to play. ;)_

_To Cas 4:18pm: Do you? Hmmmmm…. I’d like to find out for myself_

_To Dean 4:19pm: You can. ;) See you tonight. Text me when you’re heading out._

_To Cas 4:21pm: I will. Or you can join us for supper first? If you want. No pressure. We’re gonna be at Calla’s at 7:30._

_To Dean 4:23pm: I’ll see you then. In tight pants that hug my ass._

_To Cas 4:24pm: This is gonna be a fun night ;)_

Cas does indeed find jeans and a t-shirt that hug him in all the right places — the salesperson was very helpful in her assessment and he believes she was sincere, even if she was trying to make a sale. You can’t fake dilated eyes. Cas smiles a bit smugly to himself. _If you’ve got it, flaunt it, Milton_ , he thinks as he looks himself over. He adds a splash of cologne and smooths his hair with styling pomade, then messes it up, then smooths it out again, letting just a couple of pieces curl on his forehead. He wants Dean to be the one to mess it up properly. He licks his lips as he gives himself a final once-over. _Yes, you’ve got it. Now go get it_. When he arrives, he strides with swagger in his step toward the entrance to Calla’s. He’s been thinking about the man’s gorgeous eyes and strong, nimble fingers the entire ride over, and he is ready to be fucked hard. When he sees Dean waiting at the entrance, though, his cockiness drops and a softness fills his chest; Dean is standing there, watching for Cas in the opposite direction, and he’s chewing on his thumb and tapping a beat on his thigh. _Damn it. How does he do this to me?_

“Hey you,” he intones close to Dean’s ear. It startles the man into turning, and his nervousness seems to melt upon seeing Cas, which makes Cas melt, too.

“Hey,” he says, eyeing Cas up and down before taking his hand in a quick squeeze. “You doin’ okay?”

His surefire plan to seduce and forget Dean rolls away like a ball into the street, punctured by the first car to run it over. “Better now,” he says sincerely. He hadn’t realized how much he ached for Dean until he saw him again after just a few days’ separation. The dirty blond’s answering smile makes Cas’ cockiness seem like a flimsy front, and he drops the act immediately.

Dinner is wonderful; no one badgers them about their agreement or offers any opinions. He wonders if Dean spoke to them about it. After dinner and drinks, they move on to the club. He greets Anna, who eyeballs him and Dean and raises her eyebrows, but he scowls at her and she retreats. Cas is relieved to see that Gabe isn’t helping out tonight.

The night is young and the drinks are flowing, and soon Cas finds himself quite inebriated, with Dean (and everyone else) in the same situation. Dean and Max show Cas and Zeke some of their “cool” dance moves from their clubbing days, and Cas and Zeke imitate them with hilarious results. After that, everyone makes fools of themselves with wild, horrible dance moves made in the middle of their large circle of friends. It feels safe and happy, cheerier than the last time he was this drunk. As the night wears on, the songs get hypnotic and seductive, and bodies are writhing to the beat. It takes Cas back to the night he took Dean here the first time, to the way Dean pulled their hips together, how he held him close and their mouths were mere inches apart, their eyes even closer, lashes flicking against each other. In his inebriated haze, he feels his reservations falling away, his desire spiraling through his core. He wants to forget about “shoulds” and “agreements” and other people telling him what to want or who to be. On the dance floor, he ignores their friends as he captures Dean’s hips in his hands and his green eyes in his own blue ones. Here, in this space, it’s just the two of them. There’s no tomorrow, no consequences, no one to judge or badger them. Cas grinds into Dean, and when he feels Dean’s hardness, he groans and rests his head on Dean’s shoulder, pulling him closer with an arm slung around his neck. In response, Dean grabs his hair in one hand and his ass in the other and rolls his hips, creating a friction that’s heavenly in its pleasure and hellish in its insufficiency. They continue in this fashion for some time, the excitement growing between them, Dean’s breath hot on his neck. _Yes, this is what I wanted_ , Cas thinks. _This is what I wanted all along. Right?_ His dick seems to agree, but the rest of him hasn’t quite sorted out if this is exactly what he wanted. He does know that he _wants_ so badly it’s a physical ache, like the pain in his muscles after a hard workout.

They’ve stopped dancing now, and Cas noses at Dean’s ear. “Dean.”

“Hmm?” he thinks Dean says, but the bassline keeps him from hearing. Dean is nuzzled into his neck, warm and heavy, making him sweat. He feels moisture seeping into his skin where Dean’s face rests.

“Dean, I…” he starts, but Dean pulls him tighter against him — not in the dirty, covetous way he did before, but in a gentler, nurturing cradling of his head and back that feels much too good and makes him want the man in a very different way. It’s odd, though, and Cas frowns at the sudden change in mood. “Do you want to…” he tries again, but stops when Dean shakes his head, rolling it in the space between Cas’ neck and shoulder. Instinctively, he mimics Dean’s gentle hold. “Are you okay?” he murmurs into Dean’s ear so he can hear him above the noise. Dean mumbles something Cas can’t hear, so he leans back, forcing Dean to hold his head up. His eyes are glassy and bloodshot and his face is slack with… sadness, perhaps?

“I’m drunk, Cas,” Dean explains when Cas eyes him with concern. “I’m drunk, and I just don’t wanna….” He drops his face away and chews on his lip. “Never mind, it’s stupid, let’s just go and…”

“No,” Cas says. _Not this way. No_. He takes his hand and pulls them into a quiet, dim corner. With a hand to Dean’s chest, he says, “No. We’re not going anywhere or doing anything until you tell me what’s wrong.” He arches his eyebrow for emphasis, and Dean relents, as he usually does, the words tumbling clumsily out of his mouth.

“I just… I wanna be able to remember, alright? I just wanna be able to remember us… our hookup, I mean. We’ve just spent so much time getting ready for it, you know? And I just… want to remember it, and I’m afraid I won’t.” He looks away again, his cheeks clearly flaming even in the subdued light. Cas is overwhelmed; he can’t stop himself from tugging Dean back into his arms, feeling his body relax as he whispers in his ear, “Of course, Dean. Of course. Yes. I want that, too. You are so worth remembering.” Hardly separating, he guides Dean to a chair just behind him, then settles on his lap, straddling his waist. He leans back just enough to see his eyes and repeats, “I want that, too. You are worth waiting for.” He cards his fingers tenderly through Dean’s hair and repeats the words over and over, breath stroking Dean’s lips, until Dean believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see the real story behind the soup, as well as some of Dean’s thoughts regarding their hookup-that-wasn’t, check out “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479)


	10. Chapter 10

Cas is grateful that he guzzled water and took some meds before he went to bed, but his head is still throbbing when he awakens. He drags himself to the bathroom and downs some more medicine, then relieves himself and washes his hands before slogging into the kitchen. It’s a gloriously sunny day and his coffee waits in the carafe, but it feels cheerless. He thinks back to the last time he woke up after a night of heavy drinking, and is even lonelier than he was just a moment ago. He can feel the frown overtaking his countenance; he rubs his head and feels the sticky pomade from last night, its residue coating his fingers unpleasantly. He glances at the clock and sees that it is 12:30 in the afternoon. He hasn’t slept this late in years. He’s both glad and panicked that his “date” is in five hours — panicked because he really doesn’t want to do this, and glad because he can get it over with that much sooner. He glances at his phone and answers the few text messages he has, none from Dean. He wonders if Dean is still sleeping, or if maybe he had to go into work. He berates himself for thinking that Dean would text him at all. Yes, it may have been a daily occurrence for some time now, but it’s not part of the agreement.

Cas moves through his errands and chores without enthusiasm, and soon it’s time to get ready. He spoke with his neighbor, Rowena, on Thursday to make sure the date was still on (and to test out whether he might be able to get out of it); she was indeed delighted to have him be taking her great-nephew out and thought that dinner and dancing would be lovely “or whatever you young people do, dear.” He sighs and dresses in a pair of khakis and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He doesn’t wear cologne and he doesn’t style his hair any differently than usual. He barely gives himself a second glance other than to make sure he hasn’t misbuttoned his shirt and his fly is zipped. He checks his phone one more time. He still hasn’t heard from Dean. He still has a headache.

Cas walks next door and knocks. A man opens the door; his neighbor hovers behind him. He assumes this is Everett. He’s a bit younger and shorter than Cas, with short, wavy red hair finger-styled atop his head. He’s freckled all over and the angles of his face are sharp; his goatee is trimmed and stylish. He has beautiful green eyes, although not as beautiful as Dean’s. The man is handsome. He’s not sure why he needs Cas’ help. He holds out his hand. “Hello, I’m Castiel,” he says.

“This is Everett,” Rowena pipes up, and he smiles and shakes Castiel’s hand. It’s a nice smile, a bit shy. “Oh, you two will have such a wonderful time!” his neighbor gushes from behind her great-nephew. “Castiel, make sure you ask him about his studies! He’s brilliant! And about his photography! Oh, it’s lovely!” She pats him on the back. “Okay, run along now!” Castiel smiles as Everett’s face flushes with embarrassment. She waves as she closes the door, and they begin the short walk next door to Cas’ car.

“Family, huh?” Castiel jokes to set the man at ease. He doesn’t really want to be here, but that’s not Everett’s fault. He can be nice to the man.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, ruffling his hair self-consciously. “She means well.”

“Of course she does. They all do.” Castiel grins at Everett over the hood as he unlocks his car. Everett huffs a small laugh and climbs in.

They make small talk about the weather and Everett’s flight until they reach the restaurant, one that Castiel has been to several times but never with Dean.

“So, Everett,” Castiel starts when they sit, “tell me about your studies. Or about your photography. Or anything else. Whatever you prefer.” He folds his hands and leans forward like an eager student. The auburn-haired man chuckles.

“Please, call me Ev,” he says, “and I’ll start with my studies. I probably should’ve made you a cheat sheet for the quiz Aunt Rena will give you later.”

Castiel laughs. “That would’ve been helpful. Are you the only one who calls her Rena?”

“Yes, and she’s the only one who still calls me Everett,” he says with a smile.

Dinner is surprisingly easy. Castiel learns that Ev is 25, just received his Master’s in chemical engineering and is considering a doctorate, and that most of his family is conservative and don’t yet know about his attraction to men.

“I suppose that explains why this is your first date with a man, then,” Castiel replies to that, and Ev groans.

“You weren’t supposed to know that. Now I look pathetic.”

“You don’t, I promise,” Castiel comforts him. “Everyone has to start somewhere, and it sounds like there were many factors that delayed the onset of you dating men. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He smiles with a hand covering half of his mouth, still a bit chagrined, but Castiel manages to help him feel a bit better. They talk for awhile about Castiel’s coming out process, which was much more difficult to do with Daphne than with his parents, and about some of his more disastrous dates. Ev admits that he’s lived most of his life in denial, and is still coming to terms with his attraction to men.

“You know, you just grow up believing what you’re told, and you don’t question it, or at least I didn’t. Everyone else around me believed the same things, and no one ever questioned any of it, so I figured I was the weird one who had to get his shit together. When I didn’t date any girls, they just said I was a late bloomer. I figured that had to be it. I went to this Baptist college and it wasn’t any different. But then I went to grad school at a state university, and it was like a whole other world. I saw men with other men, women with other women, and most people didn’t say a thing about it. There were rainbow flags and there was a center on campus devoted to LGBTQ people. It was overwhelming.”

“I can imagine,” Castiel says with quiet sincerity, suddenly feeling grateful for the acceptance and diversity he enjoyed growing up.

“And then I thought, ‘okay, maybe I’m just bisexual,’ which was a relief because….” Ev stops, looking ashamed.

“Because you thought you’d be able to pass as heterosexual,” Castiel guesses with a comforting, encouraging smile.

“Yeah. That’s pretty messed up, right?”

“No. I think most people want to fit the societal norm.” Castiel shakes his head at his memories of his younger self.

Ev nods. “Yeah. The, uh… this is going to sound really horrible, but one of the worst days of my life was when I scored a 5 on the Kinsey scale. Truth be told, I’m probably a 6 but I think I sort of fudged the answers a little. Anyway, it was bad. I cried in some really nice guy’s office for an hour.”

Castiel nods. He gives Ev a moment to eat and take a drink before he speaks. “So how did you end up on a date with a man?”

Ev shrugs and swallows a bite of food. “I’ve been working on this for a while. Most of grad school. I finally confided in my Aunt Rena last Thanksgiving. She’s the black sheep and has always been way more liberal than the rest of the family. We’ve talked a lot and she’s been great. Over Christmas she said she had someone for me to meet, and that I had several months to get used to the idea before I came to visit her again for her birthday. I got used to it, figured I’d never know unless I tried. So, here we are.”

“At the high risk of sounding trite, it is quite brave of you to take this step. Being out in public with another man is a big step.”

Ev shrugs dismissively. “Not really. People could just think we’re friends.”

“True. However, when you start to date with intent — that is, when you’re attracted to someone and you know you’re on a date and you’re hoping for or desiring physical intimacy of some sort — you may feel like it’s very obvious that you’re a ‘couple’ and it may become quite disconcerting for you. It may actually be rather obvious to others, if you like someone enough. And people do look, Ev. They look and they talk. So I stand by my comment.”

Everett glances surreptitiously around them and Castiel smiles to himself. They eat in silence for a while.

“This is nice, Cas,” Ev says eventually, “You’re a nice guy. I think I might like dating guys.” He gives him a warm, bashful smile and his cheeks redden under his freckles, making them stand out.

For the first time in a while, he thinks about Dean. Dean has freckles that stand out when he blushes. Dean glances at him with shy smiles sometimes. Dean calls him Cas. He didn’t introduce himself that way to Ev, but he would feel foolish and rude correcting the man. He pastes a smile onto his face in return before occupying himself with the dessert menu. He avoids pie.

They head to the movies, which doesn’t help him not think of Dean. They’ve never been to the theater together, but they’ve seen plenty of movies over their… acquaintanceship. Their “holding pattern,” as Gabe once called it. When he pays for the tickets, he thinks of Dean’s diatribe about “what a rip-off” theaters are, even though he goes at least once a month with his brother or friends. When they find seats toward the back, he remembers Dean’s complaint that he always has to get to the theater too early when he goes with Sam, because he’s too tall to sit anywhere but the last row. When he dips his hand in the popcorn bucket, he thinks of how Dean stuffs his cheeks with microwave popcorn until they puff out like a chipmunk’s, then tries to whistle. He chuckles to himself, but Ev catches it.

“Didn’t realize you find historical dramas so amusing,” he teases, referring to the preview that is playing. Castiel hopes he can’t see his reddening face.

“I don’t, as a general rule,” he says. “Just thinking about something. Have you ever tried to whistle with popcorn in your mouth? It’s difficult but funny to watch.” Ev takes a mouthful and tries. It’s funny, but not as funny as when Dean does it. But Everett grins, and Castiel grins in return and tells him it was a good try.

The movie begins, and they sit in silence as Castiel tries to watch the movie and not think about what Dean’s doing right now or what running commentary Dean would be offering if they were here together. After a while, once the popcorn tub is mostly empty by their feet and they’ve lifted the armrest between them to make room for the both of them, Castiel feels Ev’s hand slink into his. It’s cool and soft and all wrong, but he schools his expression into one of casual acceptance and gives Ev a small smile before pretending to be engrossed in the movie he’s not even watching anymore. He still has a headache.

Castiel walks Everett to his aunt’s door when they return from the movie.

“Thank you, Cas,” he says in parting. “I had a great time.”

“You’re welcome, Ev. You’re a wonderful man, and you certainly have a lot to offer whatever dating partner you choose.”

Ev shuffles awkwardly. “Thanks. Guess I’ve gotta figure out how to hide this from my folks.”

Cas just catches himself from frowning. “Well, I can’t tell you how to live your life, Ev, but I can tell you that you have to live it on your terms. Many people find it easier to keep their dating private until something happens to make them change their minds, but most people find that eventually they get tired of hiding. It is difficult and draining. Facing bigotry is draining, too, but at least you’re being authentic. Trust me when I say that being yourself feels a lot better than trying to pretend to be someone you’re not.” Ev nods slowly, gazing at Cas in the hazy yellow of the porch light as he leans in a bit. Watching the man’s body language, Cas leans back subtly and continues, “Give it some thought. It’s nothing you have to decide tonight. If you continue to date, though, you may be blessed with the complication of falling in love, and then you won’t have only yourself to consider.” He pats, then squeezes Ev’s arm. “Goodnight, Ev.” He gives him a parting smile as he leaves and pretends he didn’t notice the man angling for a goodnight kiss.

At home, Cas changes into comfortable pajamas. A strange tension wracks his body, his muscles itchy and restless like he can’t stretch them enough. He considers a shower or jerking off but doesn’t have the energy for either. He does a few yoga poses but it doesn’t clear his mind like it usually does. Finally, he starts to text Dean:

_To Dean 10:27pm: Haven’t heard from you._

Too desperate. He deletes it.

 _To Dean 10:27pm: Missed you today_.

Too sentimental. Delete.

_To Dean 10:28pm: Hey you. Lying in my bed and thinking of how your sweet ass will feel under my hands when you’re pounding me. ;)_

It’s consistent what they’ve been doing, but it feels crass tonight. He deletes it and goes back to _Miss you_ because he remembers Dean using it before, but he always followed it up with something sexual so he erases it.

_To Dean 10:30pm: Well that’s done. Hope my fucking brother is satisfied._

There, that should do it. It’s not about them at all. He’s relieved when he gets an immediate response:

_To Cas 10:30pm: Back so soon?_

_To Cas 10:30pm: Something tells me your brother will never be satisfied. Not until we play our roles, anyway._

Cas frowns at the screen.

_To Dean 10:31pm: What roles?_

_To Cas 10:31pm: As the horny hookups_

_To Cas 10:32pm: I was gonna say horny hookuppers but that didn’t make sense and horny hookers just sounded wrong :P_

_To Cas 10:32pm: But I liked the alliteration so horny hookups it is_

Cas laughs aloud at Dean’s comments, and the tension in his body begins to drain away.

_To Dean 10:33pm: I didn’t know you were such a fan of alliteration._

_To Cas 10:34pm: Oh yeah._

Thinking hard for a moment, Cas finally types:

_To Dean 10:36pm: Well, I laughed loudly at your ludicrous lines._

_To Cas 10:38pm: Oh baby, that’s so hot_

Cas breaks into tired, relieved giggles as he hunches cross-legged over his phone and types:

_To Dean 10:41pm: I’m happy my humor heats up your huge heart._

_To Cas 10:42pm: Damn, you’re good at this. :) You in the office for lunch on Monday?_

Like a sail that’s come to rest after a day of wind-blown pressure, Cas collapses and slumps into his pillows, finally relaxed.

_To Dean 10:43pm: Yes, I am. I’ll bring lunch to you, how’s that?_

_To Cas 10:44pm: Sounds perfect._

_To Dean 10:47pm: Perfect. I’ll pencil you in my planner. I’ll purchase paninis, pop, and pie. ;)_

_To Cas 10:48pm: Can’t wait, you big dork._

_To Dean 10:48pm: You started it. Good night, Dean._

_To Cas 10:49pm: Happy nappy, Cas._

_To Dean 10:50pm: Oh now we’re going to rhyme? I was struggling with the alliteration as it was._

_To Cas 10:51pm: Just kidding with you. Night Cas. :)_

_To Dean 10:51pm: Good night, Dean. :)_

Cas closes his eyes and falls asleep with a smile on his face, his headache gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To find out what Dean did while Cas was on his date (including some Dean/Charlie time!), check out chapter 10 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/  
> 13387479).


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra chapter, with love <3

The Monday after Castiel’s date with Everett, he drops by Dean’s garage with the promised paninis, pie and pop. Cas plays Dean “Point Pleasant Police Department” clips from _The Tonight Show_ ; Cas loses it when Dean laughs so hard that sandwich bits spew from his mouth, and all the guys from the shop gather around them to watch. On Tuesday, Dean is stuck at work because Rufus is out, so Cas stops by again, this time with soup and sandwiches. On Wednesday, Dean plies them with fajitas, fries, and fruit punch, which Cas thinks is a hilarious mashup of lunch items; Dean defends his choices by saying he couldn’t think of any other alliterative items. They’re chatting about their mornings when Gabriel knocks and enters the office.

“I swear I see you more in my spaces than in yours,” Cas grumbles.

“Not my fault you never come over,” Gabe retorts.

“I don’t have to; you always come to me.”

“Yes, I do,” he says with a shit-eating grin. Cas squints at the mischief behind his eyes. “Soooo, C.J., how was your date?”

Cas throws daggers at his brother with his eyes; he wishes he had a few real ones to throw. Dean and Cas hadn’t talked about the date at all, which was fine with him. Dean is sitting still next to him.

“Fine,” he grinds out between clenched teeth.

“Well, tell me about it! You took him to that place Eliana’s, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And then you went to the movies, right?”

“Yes.”

“And then what?”

“Then I took him to his aunt’s and I went home.”

“What? That’s it?” Gabe asks, fake surprise coloring his tone.

“If you knew all this, why are you asking?”

“Deets, man!”

“There are no ‘deets’ to give, Gabe.”

“What, a young, scholarly virgin such as handsome Everett, free for you to form and shape, and there are no deets?”

Cas rolls his eyes, barely keeping his anger at a simmer. “Gabe. Drop it.”

“I’m just sayin’ that I stopped by to see Rowena, since you weren’t home and all, and that young man hasn’t stopped talking about you!”

“Gabe,” Cas growls. “Get. Out.”

“What’s the big deal? I mean, he decided to stay for the summer, might even move here, she mentioned, and you’re not seeing anybody…”

“Gabe…” he warns, his anger close to the boiling point.

“He’s a safe choice, man. You like safe choices, right? C’mon, Cas. He’s a nice guy, great career prospects, looking for a man to call his own, uncomplicated…”

Cas nearly upends the table as he jumps to his feet and points at the door. “GABRIEL! GET THE FUCK OUT! RIGHT GODDAMN NOW!”

Gabriel is unruffled by his brother’s yelling; in fact, he seems pleased by it. “Okay, okay, no need to be so angry, geez,” he says, placating him with his hands. He’s even more pleased with the audience he gets as Jo and another CPA, Michael, come around the corner to investigate. He offers them a smirk as he passes, saying over his shoulder, “The listeners think it’s too bad you and Hottie can’t break your agreement; they love a good love story.”

“GET OUT!” Cas screams. Jo and Michael scurry away as Cas grabs the door and slams it so hard the walls shake.

“Fucking _asshole_!” Cas rasps. He takes a long drink of the punch, spilling some on his white shirt and not caring. Dean stands and places a steadying hand on his shoulder as Cas puffs angry breaths out his nose. “I don’t know why the hell he cares. Seriously.”

“Here, just sit,” Dean pleads with pinched brows. Cas sits. “You wanna talk about it?”

“What’s there to discuss? He’s an asshole.”

“No,” Dean shakes his head, “I mean your date.”

Cas, who’s been staring at the wall, moves his eyes toward Dean’s. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Dean shrugs as he looks away. The air is thick with unspoken thoughts. “I mean, you can. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

Cas gazes at Dean’s face, a carefully-constructed veneer of nonchalance over insecurity. “Well,” Cas starts, “it was nice.”

“Nice?”

“Nice.”

“Nice like how?”

Cas lifts a shoulder. “Nice like… like a day that passes without much notice. Nice like a shirt that you wear because it’s in your closet and it’s clean. Nice like driving a sedan.” _Nothing like us_.

“Sounds…nice.” Dean’s eyes dance with amusement and relief.

“Yup,” Cas says like he’s reading an instruction manual. “Nice. A very normal, conventional date.”

They watch each other with undisguised interest for a while, until Dean smirks. “You, ah, got something there,” he says, thumbing his own upper lip in demonstration.

Cas juts out his lips exaggeratedly and nearly crosses his eyes as he looks down toward his mouth.

“Dude, he laughs, “it’s the fruit punch. You gotta lick it. Like this.” He passes his tongue and lower lip over his upper lip several times. Interest stirs low in Cas’ belly.

Cas copies his movements slowly, drawing out the sexual tension that’s suddenly made an appearance. “Like this?” he asks, pitching his voice even lower than usual. It seems to have the desired effect.

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs. “Just…” he reaches out and rubs Cas’ upper lip with his thumb, supporting his hand on Cas’ jaw. His hand is warm and work-roughened, and there’s a faint smell of soap mixed with the vinegar that Dean favors on French fries. “There,” he says, barely a whisper over Cas’ pounding heart. Their eyes roam each other’s faces, and Cas has to restrain himself from taking Dean’s thumb in his mouth. Cas swallows, and he sees Dean follow the wetting of his lips, the pursing of his mouth, the bobbing of his throat.

A knock on Cas’ door breaks the trance. “Cas?” Jo calls hesitantly.

Cas clears his throat as Dean looks away and drops his hand. “Yes, Jo?” he answers with all the pleasantness he can muster for anyone other than Dean at the moment.

“You have a visitor. She says she’s your mom?”

_My mother?_ Dean turns to him, wide-eyed, and he knows he must look the same way. “Uh, okay, I’ll be right out,” he says, his nerves kicked up like the adrenaline punch of a middle-of-the-night phone call. He has no idea why she’s here.

The men pick up lunch and open the door. Standing out in the reception area is his mom, a short, honey blonde woman with skin like the wrinkled, tanned leather of his father’s favorite jacket. She is toned from all the manual labor over the years and wears the curves of her age with pride. His mom is a woman who knows and accepts herself and others fearlessly, and he only now realizes how badly he’s missed her.

“C.J., love,” she greets him, holding her arms open wide. “Surprise!” He smiles and walks into them without hesitation, bending down to allow her to fully capture him.

“Mom,” he says with wonder. “This is… weird. What are you doing here?”

She gives him one of her widest, warmest grins, full of mischief. It’s where Gabe gets his spiritedness, Cas knows. “Your father and I just thought it had been too long, and we wanted to see you all,” she explains. It seems like an odd explanation, out of character for the nomads, but he accepts it. “Besides, it’s not every day that your brother turns 35. I’m so happy we could be here to celebrate the day he liberated himself from my womb.”

“You just missed him,” Cas says flatly, still angry, although upon spying the puzzled expression on Dean’s face (likely from the womb comment), he chuckles. “Dean,” he says, turning to the man, “this is my mother, Nayeli. Mom, this is Dean Winchester.”

Dean holds his hand out for her to shake, but Cas knows that won’t fly, and he’s proven right when she pulls him into an embrace, standing on her toes until he gets he message and bends down. She leans back and looks at him with eyes the same caramel color as her skin.

“Ah, Dean. You’re an air sign, aren’t you?” she observes. At the confused half-shake of his head, she says, “What’s your sign?”

Dean can’t seem to resist the joke. “Gee, Nayeli, I’m flattered,” he says as he winks with a mischievous grin. She laughs and he tells her he’s an Aquarius. Cas is relieved that Dean is so accepting of her. Many people (including his ex) can be turned off by her quirkiness. Pangs of longing and grief pierce his heart as he watches them interact like they’re old friends, but he pushes them away quickly.

“Yes, that’s what I would have guessed. Stubborn but loyal, correct?” Dean swats Cas, who grins and shakes with suppressed laughter. He’s always impressed at her uncanny ability to read people, assisted by astrology or not. “I’m not surprised. Air and fire often make very happy, compatible partners who spur each other on to great things,” she declares. “C.J. is, of course, a fire sign. But you probably already knew that.”

“He probably didn’t, Mom,” he says patiently.

“Oh, oh, well, sorry. But yes, very compatible, you two, inside and outside of the bedroom. Written in the stars.” Dean’s eyes widen at her words, but Cas takes it as it comes, even as he yearns to fall into a sinkhole. Once his mother gets going, she is hard to stop. Furthermore, she is usually right. He hates the implications she’s making, though, because it makes the whole situation that much more painful. “Of course, I have eyes, too, and the air around you feels very harmonious yet thick with sexual and emotional tension.”

“Mom, you’re scaring the nice man,” Cas says with an airy sarcasm. Dean laughs nervously and seems to move just a bit closer to Cas.

“Oh! Sorry again!” she chirps with flapping hands. “Well, I came to tell you that we want to take you and your siblings camping this weekend. We’ll leave tomorrow. Do you remember the beautiful lake we went to when Loki turned 12? It’s just a couple of hours from here. They have a wonderful fireworks display this weekend that I think is very fitting for your brother’s personality, don’t you? I think it would be a wonderful way to commemorate his birth.”

He does remember the lake and the weekly fireworks; it was one of the reasons he went to college and settled down in this area. He remembers the feeling of connection and freedom — the hours of exploring he did in the woods surrounding the lake, tracking animals and collecting forest detritus and making fairy houses with Anna. He also remembers playing with other kids who were camping at the campgrounds (although it was vacation and not a way of life for them), roasting marshmallows and racing each other to the floating dock and feeling normal, for once. Mostly, anyway.

“Loki?” Dean asks.

“Gabriel,” Cas answers.

“That’s the name he gave himself as a youth,” Nayeli explains, “although he goes by his birth name now. I just can’t seem to break the habit. So, the lake, C.J.?”

Although he’s still pissed at his brother, he won’t disappoint his mother. “Uh, sure,” he says, not having any plans for the Independence Day weekend, anyway. He feels Dean shift away from him and flip his phone around and around in his hand. “I have to work tomorrow, but I can leave around 4:00.”

“That’s perfect!” she gushes. “It’ll be plenty of time to get everything ready. You can just meet us up there. Oh, Dean, do you want to come? You’re more than welcome! I’ve never excluded any of my children’s lovers, not even Daphne.”

“Mom,” Cas groans, feeling uncomfortable now.

“And you’re much warmer and more genuine, I can tell,” she carries on. “Much more C.J.’s type.”

“Mom,” he says, taking her by the elbow. “Listen, Dean and I are not…”

“Are you talking about that agreement of yours?” Cas and Dean lean back simultaneously, flabbergasted. She continues, “Loki told me. But agreements are only agreements until you don’t agree with the agreement anymore.” They both wear pinched expressions at her dizzying logic, but she doesn’t carry it on any further. “Well, the invitation is open.”

“Thank you, Nayeli,” Dean says, “but I’m helping my brother with his barbecue tomorrow afternoon, so…” he glances at Cas and shifts on his feet. “Anyway, have a great time. Uh, Cas, you around for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says, not wanting to miss a day with Dean, even if he has to go in early to make up for it. He offers him a private smile, one that reminds both of them of the mood before they were interrupted.

“Cool. I’m working ‘til noon, so since you brought lunch twice I’ll bring you lunch tomorrow. If you want.”

“I want,” he says with a deep breath, flicking his eyes between Dean’s mouth and eyes. Hunger flashes in Dean’s eyes, and he smirks.

“Alright, then. Tomorrow it’ll be gyros, grapes and Gatorade,” he says with a wink. Cas can’t help but smile shyly in return, which makes Dean’s ears redden and his smirk soften. He waves lightly and heads out the door.

“Cas, hmm? I like that,” his mother comments. “Is that the new name you’ve chosen for yourself?”

He thinks for a moment and nods. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might want to make sure you catch next week’s post... just sayin’. ;)
> 
> For Dean’s POV about Gabe and Nayeli, check out chapter 11 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/  
> 13387479).
> 
> Referenced in this chapter: “Point Pleasant Police Deaprtment,” The Tonight Show. It’s not sophisticated, but it’s funny.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we gooooo ;)

It happens on a Thursday.

Cas has a routine on Thursdays, and this Thursday is no different. He wakes as he usually does, showers as he usually does, throws a load of laundry into the washer as he usually does, and drinks coffee as he usually does. He dresses in khakis and a white dress shirt, then decides to switch it up a bit for what will likely be a quiet day before the holiday at his office. He changes the dress shirt out for a pink polo shirt, then changes it again to a white polo shirt. _Wow, way to change it up_ , he thinks as a little smile crosses his face. Still, it’s nice to bare his arms. He looks in the mirror and straightens a wayward lock of hair. Satisfied, he remembers he needs to switch the laundry into the dryer. Jo calls as he takes another sip of his coffee before leaving his bedroom and heading to the laundry room.

“Are we officially open today? I forgot to ask.”

“Hello, Jo. The holiday isn’t until tomorrow, so yes,” he says, “although I expect it’ll be slow, so you can leave early if you wish.”

“Awesome. Sam’s in-laws are only in town for the day, so they’re having their July 4th party a day early. Did Dean ask you to go?”

“No. Was he going to?” he says distractedly as he rounds the corner into the laundry room. He wades into the water and grabs the basket floating toward him when he realizes something is horribly wrong.

“Fuck!” he yells, high-stepping through the water pouring onto his laundry room floor. “Damn it!” He barely hears Jo calling his name as he reaches for the water shut-off valve and it breaks in his hand, water spurting all over him. “Shit! I’m not sure I’m making it in today, Jo,” he says as he moves out of the spray. “I have a problem at home. Can you let Dean know? He was supposed to stop by and I don’t know how long I’ll have to deal with this. Thank you. I have to go.” He hangs up before hearing Jo’s response, then sloshes down to the basement to look for the main shut-off and cranks it until he assumes it is off. Running back upstairs, he sees that the water has stopped flowing, but it is now swirling above his ankles. “Great,” he mutters. He slips out of his pants and socks and tosses them atop the dryer. He pads back to the basement, leaving a trail of wet footprints, and grabs a couple of five-gallon buckets, the only two buckets he can find. Before he heads back upstairs, he turns off the power for the laundry room, just in case. He shakes his head and drags himself reluctantly back to the laundry room. _So much for a routine day_.

“Where do I even begin?” he mutters aloud as he looks over the pipes and hoses behind the washing machine. “I don’t even know how to fix this shit.” He sighs and sets about filling his two buckets, dumping them into the utility sink one painful scoop at a time. He rolls his eyes at himself as he realizes it doesn’t make sense to have two buckets for one person. He considers calling Anna but decides against it, knowing she needs her rest after working a late night. Gabe and his other friends are working, most likely, and Dean is working, too… _and not someone you call to help you with this shit, dumbass. Nobody calls their future one-night stand to help them with their household calamities._ He sighs and keeps scooping.

“Cas?” a voice calls about fifteen minutes later. “Cas, you alright? Jo called and…” Dean stops short at the sight of Cas, who came out to see who was in the house. “Dude, you’re soaked and half-naked,” he notes with a leer. Cas peers down at the white shirt clinging to his torso and the black boxer briefs and blushes before trying to make the best of it.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he jokes in a low voice. It has the desired effect; Dean laughs even as he studies Cas’ body. Cas thinks about how much he likes that laugh… and that look thrown his way.

“Had I known what was waiting for me, I would’ve been here sooner,” he grins as he wiggles his brows. Cas laughs in spite of the situation. “What’s going on?”

“My laundry room got flooded,” Cas explains as he leads Dean to the problem.

“Shit, that sucks,” he says. “You got a wet/dry vac?”

“No. It seems like a wonderful idea now, though.”

“I’ll have someone bring one from the garage,” he says as he takes out his phone and texts, then tucks his phone into his back pocket. Cas thinks about arguing that he’s done enough already, but he’s fairly certain Dean won’t listen anyway. He watches Dean take off his shoes and socks, then roll up his jeans and grab a bucket. “I guess we’ll do it this way, then, at least for now,” Dean says. “I’m having them bring a couple of our big-ass fans, too. You’ll need a way to dry this out.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas smiles at him gratefully. He can hardly believe his good fortune that Dean had time to come by… except.... “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at the garage?”

Dean shrugs and looks away. “Like I said, Jo called. Figured I should check on you.”

Cas’ heart flutters at Dean’s concern. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”

The two men work in silence for a while, the quiet only punctuated by heavy breaths or an occasional curse word or request. The pace is steady and rhythmic. Cas sneaks peeks at Dean every so often, appreciating the flex of his muscles and the fine sheen of sweat across his forehead. As the water level drops, he sees Dean shift his footing a bit to compensate. When he bends over to resume the scooping, his phone slips out of his pocket and into the water. “Ah, shit!” Dean yells, and though both men dive for the phone, it’s too late. Dean picks up the soaked phone. “Damn. Now I gotta get a new one,” he moans, pressing buttons uselessly on his flip phone. Cas keeps himself from laughing, but not from a playful jibe.

“Look at it as a blessing,” Cas teases, and Dean shoves him playfully. Cas shoves him back, and soon they’re wrestling, attempting to put each other in arm locks. Dean swings a leg around the back of Cas’ knee and pulls, and they both splash down into the remaining water.

“That was dirty!” Cas shouts as they’re grappling on their knees.

“You’re dirty!” Dean shouts back.

Cas unbalances Dean and pins him down, soaking him thoroughly in the inch of water remaining on the floor. _God_ , he’s imagined Dean under him just like this… and vice versa. “You’re right. I am dirty,” he purrs.

Dean’s eyes darken, and he starts struggling under Cas until he frees himself; he levers himself until he twists Cas around and onto the floor. “Me too,” he crows with a grin, and the men laugh hysterically in their usual way until the doorbell rings. “I’ll get the door,” Dean offers. “Wait here.” Cas is about to protest, but realizes he’s in a wet shirt and boxer briefs and halts any dissent. He figures he can use the time to settle the growing problem in his boxers, and he takes a few deep breaths and thinks about food poisoning.

Dean returns with the wet/dry vac and plugs it in. He turns it on and… nothing. He frowns down at the machine and fiddles with the cord and the power switch before Cas rolls his eyes, unplugs it, and walks down the hallway, where he plus it into an outlet. It roars to life in Dean’s hands and startles him. “Thanks,” Dean mutters, side-eyeing him and rolling his eyes affectionately when Cas shoots him a cheesy grin. Dean vacuums the remaining water while Cas drags the fans from the kitchen into the hallway in preparation for the next phase. He drags towels out of the linen closet and piles them in the hall next to the fans. Cas helps Dean move the washer and dryer so he can get the water behind and under the machines. When Dean is finished, he rolls the vacuum out.

“Lookin’ good, Cas,” he says as he surveys the room.

Cas goes for the easy joke. “Why, thank you, Dean,” he rumbles, pretending to toss back his hair.

“You’re always looking good, Cas,” he grins, bumping Cas’ hip with his own. “I’m gonna see if I can fix the problem.” He bends over and picks up his toolbox. Cas’ eyes roam over his ass, and he just catches himself before Dean turns his eyes toward him. “You wanna help?”

“I’ll wipe up the floor. I’m not much good with plumbing. Not that kind,” Cas winks. Dean chuckles and quickly drops his gaze back to the metal box, eventually selecting a wrench.

“Fixed, I think,” Dean says a while later. “Well, for now at least. You’ll need a couple of parts, but this’ll do until you get back.”

“Perfect. Thank you so much. I’m going to turn the water back on.”

“Great. I’ll pack up the vacuum and toolbox and take these towels outside to hang. Don’t need the neighbors to see you in your skivvies.” Dean packs the toolbox and vacuum in his car while Cas straightens out the laundry room. He returns for the towels and heads out the door to the backyard, soaked towels in his arms.

Cas tromps down the stairs once again and turns on the electricity and the main water valve. He scampers back up the stairs and is pleased and relieved to see the laundry room is still dry. Dean’s fix is holding. He pulls the clothing out of the dryer, then switches the clothing from the washer to the dryer. He pushes the basket of dry clothing into the hallway, then drags the fans into the small room, angling them for maximum airflow, and turns them on. The white noise fills the room.

Cas glances at his phone and just starts to wonder whether Dean left when he clatters into the house and swings the door closed carelessly behind him with a distracted frown.

“Dean? Is everything alright?” Cas asks, concern bubbling up at his apparent distress. Dean seems to snap out of whatever’s bothering him.

“Yeah, sorry,” he apologizes. “So, uh, you heading to work?”

Cas doesn’t think he’s being truthful, but clearly Dean doesn’t want to talk, so he lets it go. “I think I’ll take a shower before heading to the office. You’re welcome to as well. I’ll loan you some clothes. You’re still rather soaked,” he says with a smile. Cas turns and strolls down to his room, tugging boxers, gym shorts, and an old t-shirt from a radio promotion out of his drawers. He trots back down the hall to Dean. “You go first. Towels are in the closet in the bathroom. Help yourself to anything you need.” He smiles and walks away before Dean can notice how nervous and pleased Cas was to hand him his clothes to wear.

Cas wanders into his room to fold laundry, and Dean joins him a short time later, dressed in his clothes and smelling of his soap and shampoo. “All yours,” Dean says, and his deep voice sounds even more intimate when Dean is still damp and they’re standing in Cas’ bedroom, where he’s jerked off to fantasies about the man multiple times. _I wish_ , he thinks. Cas nods and smiles, doing his best to keep his appreciative glances at Dean’s body to a minimum. He tosses the basket to the floor and drops the folded clothing into it.

Cas showers but keeps it short; if he hurries, he can still make it to work for part of the day. He wants to check his calendar to see if he has afternoon appointments, but remembers he left it in the kitchen. Running into his kitchen in his towel to grab his phone, he sees Dean spreading food out onto Cas’ table. He’s lost in his own thoughts, but when he sees Cas he breaks into a huge smile; suddenly, work isn’t important anymore. He’s certain Jo canceled his appointments if he had any, and if she didn’t, oh well.

“Hey,” Dean greets him, the warmth of the single word making Dean’s face glow and Cas’ heart dance. “I know you wanted to go to work, but I had our lunch in the cooler in my car so I figured we could still eat before you go. If you have time, I mean.” He shifts and licks his lips anxiously.

“Of course,” Cas says (as if he’d say anything else). “I’d love to. Let me just, ah…” he gestures to his nearly-naked body.

“What, no naked lunch?” Dean pouts playfully, making Cas laugh. _If only_. “Hey, did you ever see that movie? It’s really weird. Sam made me watch it.”

“Can’t say I have,” Cas says.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from any of Sam’s attempts to educate you in movies.”

“I trust you. You have wonderful taste, Dean.”

“Of course I do. I picked you, didn’t I?” The compliment surprises Cas and he blushes fiercely. Dean smirks but it’s gentle and fond.

“I picked you too, Dean, so I guess I have good taste as well,” he smiles. It’s Dean’s turn to blush, and he busies himself with setting out the glasses as Cas turns and hurries to his bedroom. Cas dresses quickly in blue boxer briefs, a t-shirt, and tan shorts.

“Did you make these yourself?” Cas asks once they’re seated and he’s biting into his gyro. Dean nods and Cas widens his eyes in surprise. “They’re great,” he praises him with a full mouth. The corners of Dean’s mouth turn up and he hums his thanks. _He’s so cute when he’s humble… or shy… or confident… or always, really_. Cas rolls his eyes internally at himself before returning to his gyro. There’s a length of time when they don’t say much, but neither seems to mind; although they laugh and talk a lot, silence doesn’t seem to bother them. When they finish lunch, Dean grins like a child who’s desperately trying not to spill a secret.

“Close your eyes,” Dean commands, and Cas does so without question, trusting him fully. He hears the opening and closing of a container and some shuffling of plates. “Okay, open.” He does and starts laughing immediately.

“Dean, these are great! Did you make them?” Cas holds up a gingerbread man cookie, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt made with yellow icing.

“Yeah,” he says, almost bashfully.

“I love them!” he gushes. “Ooh, look at me, I’m going swimming!” he talks for the little man without thinking or caring how weird he sounds. He makes the man jump off the table. “Cliff diving!” Dean slumps in his seat, laughter overtaking him. “Me too!” Cas says in a high-pitched voice, the gingerbread woman in a yellow bikini with white dots following the cliff diver.

“Uh oh, a shark!” Dean exclaims, grabbing the male cookie out of Cas’ hand and biting off a leg.

“Ahh! Ahh!” Cas yells as he bites the leg off the woman. “Help!”

“Look! The lifeguard is coming!” Dean says, making a dark-haired, red-shorted cookie man run toward the others.

Cas laughs. “It’s that guy from _Baywatch_!”

“No, it’s you, dumbass. Look, it has blue eyes.” He wiggles it in front of Cas’ face.

“So it does,” Cas smiles softly, affection sweeter than any frosting fluttering within him. He’s touched that Dean would go to so much trouble to make something special for their lunch.

“There are more,” Dean points out. Several gingerbread men look like him, some look like Dean, and others look like friends of theirs.

“Wow, Cas clones,” he laughs.

“This one’s Gabe.” Dean holds up a cookie with brown hair and eyes and a bright pink shirt. Cas eyes it disdainfully, then plucks it out of Dean’s hand and bites his head off. “Dude, I meant for you to bring that to him,” Dean chokes out between giggles.

“Asshole doesn’t deserve cookies,” Cas grunts, still irritated with his brother. He crushes the rest of his body with his fist. Dean chuckles.

“Maybe I should’ve made some of these to look like Asshole,” he muses about his ex. “Would’ve been nice to smash his face. Here’s another one of Gabe.” Dean holds up another Gabe cookie but won’t let Cas smash it. “We’ll make him make out with the Zar cookie,” he says, smooshing it with a blond-haired, blue-shirted cookie. Cas throws his head back as he laughs heartily, gleeful about the outcome of the radio show co-hosts. They’ve always been accused of being more than just co-workers, even though Cas knows it’s not true.

They eat and throw a beach party for the cookies until only a Dean and a Cas remain unsullied. Dean throws an arm around the back of Cas’ chair and walks his man toward Cas’.

“Hey baby,” Dean’s cookie says to Cas’, “I think I’m sweet on you.”

Dean’s words (okay, the cookie’s words) make Cas feel silly. “Oh, donut say such sugary things. You’ll make me crumble,” he says.

Laughter hisses through Dean’s teeth. “That was horrible,” he teases.

“I’m better at alliteration,” Cas admits with a shrug. “Surely your sweet sentence will seize and singe my sugary soul,” he recites. _Singe my soul, indeed._

“Aww,” Dean coos, making Cookie Dean give Cookie Cas a hug that Cookie Cas returns by pressing their iced bodies together. It’s childish and perfect. He turns to grin at Dean, but is stunned by the soft glisten of Dean’s eyes and the minute tremble of his open lips. For a moment, they’re on the precipice, balancing on the tip of the attraction, the shared experiences, the feelings that have built the mountain to its peak. And suddenly, Dean is moving toward him and Cas is dropping his cookie and they are falling, pressing into each other, sweet and solid and _finally, finally, finally._

Dean curls his arm around Cas’ shoulders and urges him closer; Cas obliges him eagerly, climbing into his lap. Cas grips Dean’s face and coaxes his mouth open with his thumbs, and Dean yields; he draws Cas’ tongue in with his own, teasing and swirling. The feeling is heady and Cas cannot get enough. He winds his fingers through Dean’s hair and pulls him even closer, feeling the quick inhale of Dean’s breath on his own skin. Dean tangles his fingers in Cas’ hair and groans as he kneads through the shower-damp waves like a kitten. Cas feels his belly swoop as the sensations of Dean surround him: the smell of his skin, the texture of his hair where he tugs it, the tastes of ginger and icing. Cas’ body is taut and his groin is aching; he grinds into Dean’s lap as he trails wet kisses down his jaw and onto his neck, focusing on the soft indentation just under his ear. Dean responds in kind, thrusting his hips up as best he can in his position and rolling his head back while he slides his hands down Cas’ sides and onto his hips. After a few minutes, he whines breathlessly, “Cas… Cas, gonna lose it right here if we don’t slow down.” Cas takes the hint and stands.

“Come with me,” he beckons with his hand, fully intending the double entendre. Dean’s hand slides into Castiel’s like it’s meant to be there, a perfect balance of rough and smooth, warm and cool, thicker and thinner. Cas leads him into his bedroom and turns to face his would-be lover. “May I?” he asks Dean as his fingers hover over the hem of the borrowed t-shirt. Dean nods, and Cas slowly glides the shirt along his chest and over his head, kissing along the path his thumb traces on Dean’s torso. He spends a bit longer on his nipples when Dean moans and pants in response to his touch, driving himself mad even as Dean is grabbing at him in an urgency he recognizes keenly. Reaching Dean’s lips at last, he surrenders to Dean’s desperate desire to claim his mouth. Dean takes his time once Cas drops Dean’s shirt to the floor, exploring his mouth like a man on a mission, one who will take no prisoners. It’s an approach Cas appreciates as he surrenders and wishes for no mercy. Dean slides his hands under Cas’ shirt and traces the muscles in his back, then tugs the shirt over his head and plants his mouth onto Cas’ collarbone and works his way down, down, down, every kiss stoking Cas’ desire. When he reaches the waistband of Cas’ shorts, he stops and looks up, seeking permission.

“God, yes, Dean,” Cas moans with his fingers fisting Dean’s short strands. _As if I would say no_ , he thinks as he meets Dean’s eyes, which sparkle with delight as he unbuttons and tugs the shorts down to his ankles, then lifts each of his feet and frees them. He mouths at the fabric of the royal blue boxer briefs, soaking the fabric on the outside as Cas soaks it from the inside, his cock responding to the heat. Dean groans as he continues his work, adding his hands to massage Cas’ thighs. Cas feels himself shaking, then tensing, and he stops Dean with a tug to his messy hair.

“Switch with me,” Cas says, walking backwards and pulling Dean toward the bed. Dean follows without hesitation, and Cas loves the trust Dean places in him, especially after all he’s been through. He gently turns them and lays him down under him, gazing at him for a while before slithering down his body. He removes the borrowed shorts, then the underwear, teasing Dean with fingers and tongue before taking him in all at once. Dean jerks in response before settling into the mattress and clutching desperately to the sheets. Cas hasn’t done this for a long time, but the absence of practice doesn’t seem to matter, if Dean’s reaction is the measure. He alternates between slow, sweeping strokes and rapid bobbing and sucking, both methods driving the man on his bed insane. Cas derives just as much pleasure, his mouth remembering the feel of a full cock and his own filling cock celebrating its return.

“Cas… Cas,” Dean gasps, “please, oh God. You’ve gotta stop.”

Cas smiles wickedly and licks a drop of pre-ejaculate off his lips. “Why? What’s the matter?” he asks with large eyes. He’s been told it makes him look irresistible.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean squeaks, hauling the dark-haired man atop him and kissing him hard. They stay in this position for some time, rubbing against each other and kissing until they need to breathe, then gulping down air and diving in again. “God, Cas, I want you,” Dean growls. “Wanted you so long.”

“Me too, Dean,” Cas agrees and hooks his legs, then flips him over. Dean startles in surprise and they laugh. “Want to feel you in me,” he says in a whisper.

“God, Cas,” he moans, resting his forehead on Cas’. “Damn.” He slides his hand down and removes the briefs, then grazes Cas’ opening gently, making Cas bite his lip in anticipation of what’s to come. Cas points to a drawer and Dean smirks and opens it, pulling out a bottle of lube.

“Ah, that’s where you hide it,” Dean says, indicating the toy he’d gotten the night they met.

“Yes. I like to keep it handy,” Cas grins, eyes closed as he prepares himself for the pleasure about to arrive. He listens to the cap opening, to the squeeze of the half-full bottle, and to the shift of the covers as Dean slides to Cas’ side.

“Seems like there’s a joke in there somewhere,” Dean comments. Cas is about to respond when he feels a finger penetrate him, and then there are no words left that seem more important. His mouth hangs open as his body adjusts quickly, responding strongly and favorably to the long-forgotten sensation of another in him. Dean kisses his neck and face and murmurs, “Look at you, fuck, Cas” as Cas writhes and pushes against his fingers, slack-jawed and dazed, his head whipping side to side on the mattress. Upon finding his prostate, Cas shouts and arches off the bed, then grabs Dean around the neck and yanks him into a searing kiss while Dean takes him apart.

“Fuck me, Dean,” Cas rasps at last when he can’t take another moment. His eyelids flutter open and Dean is above him, hopeful and nervous.

“Are you sure?” he asks, licking his lips and searching Cas’ face.

Cas leaves no room for doubt. “Dean,” he growls, “you pound me into this mattress right now, you hear me?”

“Fuck,” he breathes, kissing Cas again, “fuck, fuck.” He leans over and opens the new box of condoms, pulling off the first one on the end. He rolls it onto himself and applies more lube, then turns back to Cas and sits on his knees. “Um, how do you, uh…”

“I want to face you, if that’s okay with you,” Cas answers his unfinished question, gently touching his arm. His commanding bravado from a moment ago is gone as he gazes at Dean’s handsome, open face. He can hardly wait to have this man inside him physically, since he’s already burrowed his way in emotionally.

“Yeah,” he smiles, and Cas’ heart leaps into his throat. He swallows it down and reflects the ray of sunshine with a smile of his own. Dean moves into him tentatively, gently, reverently. It’s breathtaking in its care, thrilling in its promise. Despite the length of time since he’s bottomed, Cas adapts easily and soon Dean is fully seated within Cas, both of them moaning their approval at the situation.

It starts slow and undulating, both of them seeming to relish every roll of Cas’ hips and squeeze of his ass as he lures Dean toward their shared pleasure. Even as Dean’s desire urges him to thrust harder into Cas, it’s still not the rough “pounding” Cas had expected when he went to the bars that night. Then, Cas was only expecting physical release, something that would make his toes curl and his nerves light up. This is something else entirely. It’s physical, for sure — his toes are clutching the air desperately and his nerves are on fire — but it’s more than that. So much more. So much better. Dean presses heated kisses into his face and neck. Cas thumbs the hair off Dean’s sweat-drenched forehead. Dean supports Cas’ body despite his own trembling arms. Cas whispers praise into his ear. Nearing a frenetic finish, they cannot do anything more than rest their heads together, sharing breath and the vibrations of their moans of pleasure. Dean wraps an arm around Cas’ back and tilts him up just enough to nail his prostate again, and Cas grips the headboard with one hand and Dean’s hair with the other, rocking into the building pressure. He chants Dean’s name until he comes, when his name is replaced with wild, noisy euphoria. As his orgasm begins to recede, he realizes Dean has stopped moving and opens his eyes. Dean is watching him in awe.

“Fuck, Cas,” he whispers, raw and adoring. He chews on his lips and searches his face.

“Yes, please do,” Cas smiles, urging Dean’s hips forward and pulling him into a heated kiss that turns tender and comforting. Dean surges on, thrusting forward, and Cas explores his mouth and cards his fingers through Dean’s hair as Dean rides through to his orgasm. The man above him stills, then stutters, his pleasure made obvious in his deep-throated groan and his gaping mouth that ticks into a grin as he finishes and buries his face in Cas’ neck.

They breathe together as a boat on the ocean, rising and falling into each other’s rhythms until they are perfectly synced. After a while, Dean kisses Cas gently on the cheek, then fetches a couple of washcloths.

“Feels good,” Cas murmurs sleepily as Dean wipes the damp towel over his face, neck, and chest before cleaning the ejaculate from his skin. Dean cleans himself up hurriedly, then begins to curl in next to Cas before stopping suddenly. Cas opens his eyes and frowns.

“What is it?” Cas asks, a hand slipping to Dean’s jaw.

Dean looks down at Cas’ hip and says, “I didn’t know if, if you’d wanna, you know.” He waves his hand into the space next to Cas but doesn’t elaborate.

It hits Cas like a punch to the face, sudden and heavy and making his eyes and nose sting: This is it. This was their one-night stand, their hookup. And they won’t even get the night. No waking up together, no greasy, calorie-laden breakfast. No more lunches or dinners or texting or anticipation. No more Dean. There are so many things they’ve been denied; Cas sure as hell isn’t going to add to them. He lifts his arm in invitation, and Dean crawls next to him and sighs, resting his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes. Cas closes his eyes too, scrunching them tightly to rid himself of the squeezing, prickly feeling sinking into his chest. He’s going to enjoy this for as long as he can.

He gets three minutes.

“C.J.! Hottie! Where the hell are you?” Gabe calls from what sounds like the front door. Cas wants to cry.

“What is your asshole brother doing here, Cas?” Dean grumbles with a sigh.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out and it had better be good.” Cas shrugs into a shirt and hikes the shorts Dean slid off him just a short time ago over his hips, then marches out to the kitchen, Dean hot on his heels in Cas’ shorts. Gabe’s eyes light up upon seeing the pair coming from the vicinity of Cas’ bedroom.

“Gabe, what the…”

“Hey, thought your family was gonna send out the National Guard, Loverboy,” Gabe says to Dean with a smirk, cutting Cas off. “They’ve been calling you. Couldn’t reach you so they called work. Work said you were here. They called Cas but he didn’t answer, either.” He waves Cas’ phone and they see several text messages and missed calls lighting up the screen.

“Shit,” they mutter in unison.

“Here.” Gabe tosses Cas’ phone to Dean. “Call your family.”

Dean selects one of the multiple missed calls from his brother and wanders into the other room to speak to him. Gabe watches Cas as Cas’ eyes follow Dean out of the room.

“Soooo…”

“Yes, we did. No, I’m not telling you about it,” he tells Gabe quietly, but with an edge of warning.

Gabe holds up his hands, defending himself against his brother’s ire. “Hey, chill, I’m just happy you got it over with,” he says casually.

Cas turns to stare at his brother. “Got it over…” Cas huffs incredulously as he cleans up cookie crumbs off the table for something to do with his nervous energy. “We didn’t ‘get it over with,’ Gabe.”

“That’s for damn sure. You dragged a one-night stand out for weeks, C.J.! Months! There was nothing quick about your fuck.”

“I hardly see how that’s any of your…”

“And now,” Gabe interrupts, “you can move on and actually date people, since, you know, you’ve been too preoccupied with not-dating Hottie for the last three months.”

“He has a name, Gabe,” Cas growls.

“Doesn’t matter now, does it?” he smirks. Cas trembles and swallows the urge to wipe the smug look off Gabe’s face in a violent manner.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’ll be right there! Wanna punch me in the nuts while you’re at it?” Dean stabs the phone with his thumb to disconnect the call as he walks into the room.

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Cas asks. He stands just out of the way of the frantic man.

“I forgot I have all the meat for the barbecue at home, plus I gotta pick up my grandmother, who’s called Sam five times already wondering where I am.” Cas remembers his grandmother has early-stage Alzheimer’s and gets anxious easily. He cringes in sympathy.

“Just go, Dean,” he says in a calming tone, grabbing his arm to stop him from cleaning up the mess on the kitchen table they’d left there earlier. “It’s okay. I’ll make sure you get your things back.”

“I don’t need ‘em, Cas, just didn’t want to leave you with a mess….”

“Go. Your family needs you.” He squeezes his arm and, knowing it’ll probably be the last time he touches him, Cas uses both hands to turn him around and nudge him toward the bedroom. He stares at nothing and refuses to look at Gabe after Dean leaves the room.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says a moment later as he emerges wearing Cas’ shirt and hopping on one foot to slip on a shoe. He jogs to the laundry room to retrieve his ruined phone, then grabs his soaked clothes from the bathroom where he’d hung them. Cas’ eyes follow him sadly. Gabe, for once, is quiet.

Dean mutters to himself as he pats down his body and twirls around slowly in the kitchen. “Fuck, okay, uh, broken phone, soaked clothes, other shit’s in the car, okay… I guess that’s everything.” He looks up at Cas, who gives him a tiny, amused smile as he dangles his keys from his finger.

“Oh yeah, those help,” he laughs. Cas’ smile doesn’t change, even as Dean’s hand brushes his as he takes his keys. He hopes he can keep it plastered on his face until Dean walks out. “Thanks. Alright, see ya later! Have a good weekend with your folks!” he calls behind him, pulling the door open with his free hand. Just as he tugs the door closed behind him, he freezes and the door smacks him in the back. He turns and Cas thought he saw a horrified look on his face for a second, but realizes he must have been mistaken when he’s fully facing Cas. His megawatt smile graces his handsome face.

“Hey, almost forgot,” he says, leaning in through the doorway and beckoning Cas with an outstretched arm. Cas goes, and Dean folds him into a one-armed hug and says a quick, casual “Thanks for everything, it was fun” into the crook of his neck before patting his back and heading out the door. It’s the goodbye of a departing one-night stand, Cas assumes. Dean didn’t even look at him. He won’t get to see that eternal springtime ever again and it hurts, even if it never was his to have. Cas can’t bear to watch him leave, so he backs out of the doorway and stands listlessly in the kitchen. A few minutes later, the roar of the Impala tells him that Dean is gone. He stares blankly at the floor.

“So, since your work day’s a wash and all, we gonna head out early? Or do you want to _agree to something different_?” Gabe asks, arms folded and eyebrow arched.

Numb, Cas walks to his room to retrieve his bag without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how is everybody? *hugs*
> 
> Why in the world did Dean react that way? Hmm... for that answer as well as Dean’s POV, including his morning and his introduction to a certain someone, check out chapter 12 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/  
> 13387479).


	13. Chapter 13

Cas usually loves spending time at the lake, especially during the late spring and early fall, when it’s still warm enough for swimming or kayaking but the tourists aren’t around. Today, though, there is no thrill. He arrives at the familiar site and drives down the narrow camp roads until he finds the RV and his brother’s and sister's cars parked in a clearing near paths leading to the community center and the bathrooms. He’s grateful they were able to get a campsite this close to the lake, because he’s always found water soothing. He thinks he will need a bit of soothing, even if he shouldn’t.

His parents and siblings sit outside, chairs in a circle and some sort of pink beverages in their hands. He doesn’t feel like doing this today. Not now. Not mere hours after Dean. _Damn it, I should not be emotional about this._

“Hey, if it isn’t young C.J. the Belated Conqueror!” Gabe yells when Cas approaches. Cas rolls his eyes. His brother’s mild annoyance not enough, Gabriel adds, “Ladies and gent, our little one finally sealed the deal with his On-Hold Honey!” Excited murmurs ripple through his family, and Cas doesn’t bother to stifle his groan.

“Is that why you didn’t drive up with Gabe?” Anna asks. “Busy with _other things_?”

“No,” Cas says, offering no further comment as he plops into a canvas camp chair. He couldn’t bear to be with Gabe or anyone else, so he drove up alone. He hardly remembers the drive, his muscle memory piloting him to the familiar spot through glassy eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

“So how was your time with Dean, my precious boy?” Nayeli asks.

“Yeah, tell us all about it!” Gabe enthuses.

“It may surprise you to know that many American families do not feel the need to meddle in the sex lives of one of their members,” Cas grumbles.

“Oh, my love, we just want you to feel free to express yourself about anything in your life. There is no shame or need for repression. Sex is a beautiful, natural…”

“Okay then!” Cas cries, throwing his hands up. “Great! That’s great, but it’s also private, for those who choose to make it so. That means I might not want to have a chat about it with _my parents and siblings_.”

“I don’t understand. You confided in us when you were feeling unsatisfied with Daphne, and about some of your other relationships…”

“I know, Mom, but this is different, okay? I just want to keep this to myself.” Cas rubs his face and fixes his eyes on the horizon. He is struck with the sudden desire to learn how to paint. Perhaps it would make a good distraction. He could paint the lake. In springtime. He could paint the green leaves, the green grass, the green boathouse. Green, green, green.

“Everything’s an exception with that one,” Gabe says with an exaggerated roll of his head.

“Now, if C.J. doesn’t want to discuss it, he doesn’t have to,” their father, Stellan, defends him.

“Of course not,” his mother agrees. “Still, repression can lead to a myriad of physical and emotional health problems, and…”

“It was magical,” Cas says flatly. “We engaged in consensual, unprotected oral and protected anal sex. I accepted his penis into my anal cavity while lying in a prone, face-up position. I said his name five times as I orgasmed. He achieved orgasm within four minutes of mine. We completed the terms of our agreement, and now I can add ‘one-night stand’ to my sexual resumé, although perhaps the term ‘hookup’ would be more appropriate given that we did not have our relations at night, nor did he spend the night. End of report.” He stands and strides toward the beach.

“Cas…” his mother calls after him, which stops him. She’s never called him that. He doesn’t turn around, but he waits.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” Nayeli says softly. “It’s just that your energy seems very subdued and sad…”

“I’m not sad,” he lies. “There’s nothing to be sad about. I had a great time. I knew the terms. I’m the one who sought this out.”

“But honey…”

“It was just a one-night stand.”

“Yeah, Ma, it was just a one-night stand,” Gabe snarks from somewhere in her vicinity. “Just let it go, Ma. C.J. is. Can’t you tell?”

Cas balls up his fists and walks to the beach, no one stopping him this time.

For the rest of the weekend, Castiel’s father, mother, and sister avoid the topic of his one-night stand and his love life in general; they look at him with a sympathy he can’t stand. Only Gabriel continues to poke the bear:

_“Hey, check out that hot guy! Think he’s single? Maybe if you proposition him now, you’ll be able to bang him by Christmas!”_

_“You can bring me lunches at work instead. You know, to fill the void in your life.”_

_“You’re gonna go back to being an unhappy, boring workaholic, aren’t you?”_

It’s a long, long weekend.

Arriving home Sunday afternoon, Cas checks his laundry room. The fans he left running are gone, most likely Zar’s doing. He’d stopped by his place before he left for the weekend and asked him to turn them off on Friday or Saturday. The key is on his now-clean kitchen table, where there are several washed plastic containers stacked up from Thursday’s lunch. Zar did some cleaning, apparently.

_To Zar 4:22pm: Thank you for taking care of the fans. Where are they? And thanks for cleaning my kitchen. That wasn’t necessary._

_To Cas 4:24pm: Not a problem. I brought the fans back to the garage on Saturday. That’s where the labels said they belonged. The cookies are in a plastic bag on the counter._

Cookies? There weren’t any cookies left. He walks to the counter and sees the two cookies through the bag, squished together in a hug. The last Dean and Cas cookies. The ones they’d been playing with when…

A wave of sorrow and regret rolls over him, and he quickly tosses the bag into a drawer. _No. You are not going to lose it over this._ He takes a deep breath and sends a text thanking Zar, then scoops up the containers and dumps them into the recycling can. On his way to empty the can into the larger recycling receptacle he puts out at the curb every week, he catches sight of Dean’s cooler and pauses. What should he do with that? Sighing, he picks it up. He empties the recycling can and jams the cooler into a space against the wall of his garage, just out of sight of his usual activities. Maybe he’ll swing by the garage to return it. Maybe he’ll send somebody else. He isn’t sure of the etiquette when a hookup leaves things at your house.

Putting the recycling can back under the sink, Cas throws his dirty laundry from the weekend into the washing machine. He pours in detergent, presses the button, and crosses his fingers. No pipes burst and no water sloshes around his feet. He looks over the patch-up job Dean did and remembers he said it was temporary and he should call someone to get it fixed up properly. It seems stupid, Cas knows, but he wants to keep it just like it is. Pressure burns in his chest as he looks it over. _No. You are not going to lose it over this._ He snatches his bag roughly from the floor and turns on his heel to leave behind the ridiculously sentimental feelings his laundry room is causing. He makes a mental note to call a plumber tomorrow.

In the bathroom, where he’s putting his toiletries away, he picks up a crumpled towel on the floor that reminds him that Dean had been in his shower, had used his soap and shampoo. He’d hoped they could shower together after everything was done, a nice little cap to their experience. They could’ve washed each other. Cas would’ve loved to get his hands all over Dean again, to take care of him the way Dean took care of him so sweetly, and Dean could’ve soaped him up and maybe taken him from behind this time… oh, he never got to show him his tattoo, never got to feel his fingertips trace the words, the wings. He realizes he’s been staring at the towel for the last several minutes, twisting it in his hands. _No. You are not going to lose it over this_. He tosses the towel toward the laundry room. It lands in the hall. Pulling open the linen closet to hang fresh towels, he’s met with a sparse selection and remembers he used most of his bath towels to thoroughly dry the floor on Thursday. He lets his head fall back and sighs.

Cas steps into the warm afternoon and into his yard, where several towels are draped over the clothesline. Gabriel thought it was “super gay” to put up a clothesline, which earned him a dour look and a job as his assistant when he was ready to build it. It was made with a sturdy cedar and made his sheets smell like Heaven. Gabe told him if he missed the smell of sleeping outside so much he could just build a hammock instead. He still put up the clothesline and then wrangled Gabe into helping him with a hammock, too.

“Hey, Cas,” a voice says, and for a split second Cas’ heart jumps like a dog greeting its owner. But then he realizes that familiar greeting did not come with the also-familiar sound of barely-concealed amusement or warm regard. He peeks around one of the towels.

“Hello, Ev,” he greets the man standing on the other side of the fence. A lounge chair with an overturned book sits a few feet behind him in Rowena’s yard.

“Everything all dried out in your laundry room?”

“Yes, it is,” Cas answers slowly, with a bit of confusion. _How did he know?_

“The guy who was out here hanging the towels told me,” he explains, and Cas’ face smooths out. He didn’t realize they’d met. “I asked if you were okay and he said yes. Said your washing machine had problems and he came over to help.”

“Uh, yes, he did.”

“I offered to help mop up or whatever but he said you guys had it under control,” he shrugs. “I introduced myself and tried to reassure him that we knew each other and I wasn’t just some random weirdo but he didn’t really seem to want help. So I just asked him to let you know I’d be around if you needed anything."

Dean hadn’t mentioned anything about this. He catches himself pre-frown, though, and says, “I was away for the weekend.”

“Oh! Well, uh, everything turn out okay?”

Cas is certain that Ev is asking about the state of his laundry room or about his weekend, but it’s not the question his heart hears. And all he wants to do is say “No, everything did not turn out okay,” because it didn’t.

“Yes,” he smiles tightly. “Sorry, but I have to clean up from my weekend and get ready for work tomorrow. Please excuse me.” He nods and turns to walk away but Ev calls his name.

“Sorry to keep you, Cas, but uh, I was wondering… “ the man stops and Cas isn’t sure why, but then he continues, “ah, you know what, never mind, I’ll catch up with you when you’re not so busy.”

“I appreciate that, Ev,” he says, the tight smile unwavering until he faces fully away from the redhead and collects the towels in his arms. He thinks about how Dean stood in his backyard and hung towels and had a conversation with one of his neighbors. It’s so fucking domestic, the true kind of happy domesticity he’d always wanted but never quite had. _No. You are not going to lose it over this_. He exhales heavily before hauling the sun-warmed towels into the house and dumping them into the hamper in the laundry room. He strips his clothes off and adds them to the pile, then pads barefoot into the bathroom and runs the hottest shower he can stand, despite the summer day. He lets the water pound into his skin and thinks of nothing.

Cas ambles into his bedroom twenty minutes later, still shower-damp but looser from the hot water. He stops and stares at the unmade bed, at the open nightstand drawer, at the washcloths tossed carelessly to the floor. _No. You are not going to lose it over this._

He walks toward the bed, sheets thrown hastily aside. _No. You are not going to lose it over this._

He tucks the condoms carelessly in the box and shoves the box and the lube, along with the toy, to the back of the drawer and closes it. _No. You are not going to lose it over this._

He bends down, picks up the cloths, and drops them in the trash can, not caring that he’ll have to buy new ones because they cover the used condom nicely. _No. You are not going to lose it over this._

He crawls into bed, the sheets cool against his naked skin, and his foot snags something. It’s the underwear Dean had borrowed; apparently he didn’t slip these back on when Gabriel arrived. It’s irrational, but he slides them on anyway, taking the small comfort of knowing his skin touched them. _No. You are not going to lose it over this._

The pillow he shared with Dean for such a short time afterward doesn’t have the man’s scent on it; he was on it for too short a time to leave his mark on the object. But Cas knows he was on it. He knows it happened. He knows it was real. For him, at least. He left his mark. _No. You are not going to lose it over this, Cas. You’re not. You’re not._

He sobs until sleep overtakes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, Cas. :’(
> 
> To find out how Dean handled things once he left Cas (including being ambushed by three women), check out chapter 13 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479).


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a few hours early because I’m at my first SPN convention! :D

Ten days of badgering is all that Cas can take.

“Why the fuck do you care, Gabe?” he shouts at his brother.

“You’ve been a sad sack! Come on! Sweet little Everett asked you out, what, over a week ago? Go out with him! You’re breaking his heart.”

“I hardly think I’m having that sort of impact on him.” Cas pushes the greasy bag that Gabe brought him away. Despite Gabe’s and Jo’s efforts, he’s preferred to work through lunch, making do with coffee and protein bars since he got back to work a week and a half ago.

“You underestimate the impact you have on others, C.J.”

“If you say so, Gabe. Goodbye.” He tries to focus on the papers scattered across his desk, but he doesn’t really see them anyway and Gabe knows it.

“Look,” his brother pleads, “just one more date.”

“Again, why do you care if I go on another date with this man? Or anyone?” Cas asks, then guzzles cold coffee, grimacing when he gets a mouthful of the dregs at the bottom.

Not really answering his question, Gabe says, “Everett’s a nice guy. He’s a safe choice to start a new relationship with.”

Cas slams his mug on the table. “Okay, one, I don’t recall saying I wanted a new relationship, and two, even if I did…” _It wouldn’t be with him._ “...he’s only here for the summer.”

“A perfect summer romance!”

“Gabe…”

“One date. One date and I’ll leave you alone about it.”

“I reiterate, yet again: why do you care?”

Gabe sighs in exasperation. “Because I want you to see what your life will be like if you just let Hottie go, alright?”

Cas looks at him, puzzled. Something about what Gabriel says or how he says it sounds off, but he can’t pinpoint it. “You won’t ask me to go out with him again? Or anyone else?”

“I will shut my mouth about your dating life.”

He sighs heavily. “Fine. If it’ll get you off my back.”

He calls Ev and accepts, and Ev plans dinner and an outdoor concert in the square for Saturday. He’s grateful he can wear jeans and a t-shirt. Small mercies. Ev picks him up in his aunt’s convertible and they chat quietly about their weeks (though Cas has nothing interesting to say) as he takes them toward their dinner destination. When he sees the man approaching the Roadhouse, though, he panics.

“Not there,” he says, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Ev frowns. “I’m sorry. I heard it was good here and it’s casual, so…”

“No, it is, it is. It’s just… I can’t.” He swallows back emotions he really can’t revisit right now. Maybe later, when he’s alone, like he’s done every night since July 3.

“History?” Ev asks with a raised brow.

“History,” Cas confirms, nodding.

“Should I ask?”

“No, please.”

Cas turns down three more eateries. Ev suggests the place they went to last time, but Cas turns that down, too (not wanting to cement some idea that they have a place that’s “theirs”). Finally, they find a place that has no “history.”

Dinner is pleasant, as it was the first time. Everett is more animated and confident than he was last time, and he’s genuinely interesting, so Cas is content to sit back and listen. He makes sure to keep the man talking so that he doesn’t have to; it feels like too much work to keep up a conversation these days. If Ev notices his quietness, he doesn’t say anything.

The concert is performed by a bunch of local folk artists. Most of them are talented, at least, and it’s nice to stand and listen and not have to engage in any conversation. It doesn’t seem to be doing anything for Ev, though.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks. Cas panics. What the hell does he mean by that? Is he literally asking whether he would like to leave, or is this a “my place or your place” sort of thing? Is the guy really ready to make that kind of jump?

“What did you have in mind?” Cas asks. Ev shrugs. Cas pinches the space between his brows and massages it, thinking for a moment. He’s about to suggest another movie (no talking!) when he receives a text from his sister:

_To Cas 8:49pm: Hey, can you come by the club?_

“Well, would a beer and some loud dance music work for you?” Cas asks. At Ev’s wide eyes, Cas smiles. _Yes. Maybe this could work._

Ev follows his directions to Nightingale, and Cas is accosted almost as soon as they reach the bar.

“C.J.! Oh, thank God! Can you run the bar for a few? We’re short and I’ve gotta pee and I haven’t had a break and…”

Ev gives Cas a puzzled look about the name, but Cas doesn’t bother to explain. “Is this why Anna wanted me to come by?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I just know my eyeballs are gonna float soon.”

“Okay, okay,” Cas laughs. “Do you mind?” he turns and asks his date. Ev shrugs and waves his hand to say _go ahead_. “Thanks,” he says, then turns back to the bartender and says, “Give me just a minute, Maddie.” He leaves Ev to chat with Maddie and goes to the staff room, where he has a locker with his makeup and extra clothes. He changes, musses his hair with gel, and applies the black liner and sparkly highlighter before sliding behind the bar. He urges her to go.

“Bless you,” she calls as she takes off. He chuckles and turns to his date, who’s staring at him.

“What?” Cas asks.

“You look… um…”

“Different?”

“Yeah,” he says in a breathy whisper. _Ah, shit_.

“Yep, I’m different, alright,” he agrees, not acknowledging the lust in Ev’s eyes. “It’s kind of the look Anna wants for the employees.” A blonde woman wearing stacked heels calls to him from down the bar. “I’ll be right back. Sorry about this,” he says. “Hey, feel free to mingle if you want, flirt with cute guys, dance, whatever.” He just catches Ev’s eyes widen as he walks off.

An hour later, Ev is still there on his third beer, and Cas is still behind the bar. Maddie’s there, too, but she’s just as busy as he is. He apologizes to Ev several times and even tells him he can leave, but Ev sticks around. He seems content to watch the crowd and Cas. Anna comes by with another bartender to relieve him and shares some sort of conversation with Maddie that has the air of conspiracy; Cas recognizes the look from their childhoods. Cas catches Anna’s attention and squints his eyes, but she just smiles and mouths, “Thanks!” Cas shakes his head and takes the seat next to Ev. They have a beer together, and Cas is thinking they’ll be wrapping up the evening when Ev says, “Wanna dance?”

 _No, I really don’t_. “Um, sure.” Cas stands and scans the crowd until he finds several men and a few women dancing together in a circle. He recognizes them and knows several of the men are gay or bisexual from chatting with them in the past. “Let’s go over there. I’ll introduce you to some people, since you’ll be around for a bit.” He leads the way and Ev takes his hand so they stay together in the crowd. Cas has to fight to keep himself from shaking it off. The group folds them in easily. Shortly after they arrive, a couple more men join the group. It’s Alan and Dag, regulars at the club. They immediately size up Everett and start flirting with him, and Cas is relieved and even delighted. Ev, for his part, looks flattered and flustered; he looks toward Cas, but Cas keeps his head pointed to the floor or up to the ceiling, dancing with his eyes closed. He’s hoping Ev will let himself enjoy their harmless flirtations, and even more, he’s hoping that by closing his eyes others will think he’s really into the music and won’t interact with him. He’s emotionally and physically exhausted and has just about hit his limit. Another group piles in and merges with them as Cas tries to look preoccupied.

“Cas!” Jess yells. He’s thrilled and pained to see her. She gives him a hug, Hannah and Sarah following after. “How are you?”

“Fine, and you?” he answers automatically.

“You don’t look fine, babycakes. You look like shit. Doesn’t he look like shit, girls?” They nod. “No offense, sweetie. You alright?”

“Fine,” he says again, smiling tightly. He gets Ev’s attention and says, “This is Ev. Ev, this is Jess, Hannah and Sarah.” They greet him enthusiastically, but Jess turns right back to Cas. She eyes him suspiciously.

“Are you sure you feel okay, Cas?”

He doesn’t. He knows he doesn’t.

“Actually, I’m gonna get some fresh air. Be right back. You good, Ev?” The man nods with concern; Cas flashes a quick, reassuring smile before he heads toward the side exit. Acknowledging Uriel with a wave, Cas throws his weight into the door and stumbles outside.

 _Too much, too much, too much_ , his brain is screaming. He shouldn’t be this upset about a one-night stand. They’re supposed to be fun, easy, no fuss. He’s still young(ish), he’s single, he’s free to be himself, and Ev’s a good guy. _Go back in there and have fun, asshole._ Cas closes his eyes and leans against the brick wall; he concentrates on breathing slowly, trying to will away the tunnel vision creeping in.

“You gonna make it?” Uriel asks when he pokes his head out the door.

“Uh-huh, yeah, just got a little hot,” he answers, keeping his eyes closed.

“Bullshit.”

Cas peeks an eye open. “What do you mean, bullshit?”

He gives Cas the once-over with a critical eye. “Cops are trained to observe, you know. Of course, you’re an open book.”

He half-heartedly gives Uri the finger; he chuckles and lays a large, dark hand on Cas’ shoulder. He squeezes once before retreating, the door clinking shut.

After a few minutes, Cas decides he’s been gone longer than what is probably appropriate when one is on a date, so he collects himself and heads back inside. He finds Ev, Jess, and Hannah taking shots with Alan and Dag, Sarah looking on with amusement. Dag has his hand on Ev’s hip. Ev looks drunk and titillated, a crooked grin on his face. Cas smiles tiredly. The guy really is nice. He deserves to have fun and deserves to have the kind of attention that Cas just can’t give him.

“Cas! You’re back!” Jess yells, making everyone turn. Ev freezes and Dag backs off slowly, keeping an eye on Cas. Cas pretends he didn’t notice, focusing his attention on Jess. “Want one?” she asks, gesturing to the shot glasses. Before he can answer, he’s attacked from behind by a squealing, huggy redhead.

“Cas!” she shouts. Charlie turns him around to kiss him on the cheek. “Nice makeup, but it’s not helping. You look like shit,” she says.

“I said the same thing!” Jess calls out. Charlie mumbles something about the men in her life looking like hell, but Cas can’t catch all of it and Jess’ hard elbow to the ribs prevents her from saying more.

Cas watches as the five of them raise their shot glasses and drink. Jess finishes first. It reminds him of the first time he came to the club with Dean and it’s too much. Charlie tells the group some joke that Dean told him and it’s too much. He glances at the dark corner where he’d sat on Dean’s lap and stroked his hair because he wanted to _remember_ their hookup and it’s too much. Ev eyes him up and down with the hungry leer of someone whose inhibitions have been lowered and it’s too much. _Too much, too much, too much._

“I have to go,” he says suddenly. With all eyes on him, he schools his face into something that doesn’t look like he’s losing his mind and says, “I have to get an early start tomorrow. Things to do before the work week begins.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Ev says, slurring a bit as he places his hands on Cas’ chest and grips his shirt. “I didn’t know. I should’ve asked, I…”

“It’s alright, Ev, don’t worry about it.” He removes Ev’s hands from his chest with a reassuring squeeze. Ev pulls out the car keys and Cas says, “No, you can’t drive, and I don’t want to spoil your evening just because I need to leave. You can either stay here and call a cab when you’re ready or you can let me drive you home, but you’re not driving.”

“I’ll go home with you,” he winks with some effort.

It would be so easy to fuck Everett. Isn’t the cure for a hangover more of the same? Maybe he needs another one-night stand, a true hookup in every sense. He shakes his head at the sheer absurdity of the thought. It’s the last thing he wants.

“Say goodbye to your new friends,” Cas says with a teasing lilt. They wish him well and the men ruffle his hair and call him handsome and tell him to come back soon. He blushes with the attention, and Dag catches Cas’ eye above Ev’s head and winks. Cas nods a thank you. He knows what they were doing. He’s not sure how they knew to do it, but he’s grateful. Jess, Charlie, Hannah, and Sarah give Cas concerned looks as they wave goodbye.

The drive home is quiet save for Everett murmuring “so hot” and something about “getting some ass” while looking at him with glazed eyes. Cas wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He parks the convertible in his neighbor’s driveway and walks him to the door.

“I had a great time, Cas,” he mumbles with sincere, unguarded green eyes.

“I’m glad,” Cas replies, and he is. “Do yourself a favor and drink some water, and leave some more water and pain meds by your bed for the hangover you’ll undoubtedly have.”

“I will,” he smiles. His eyes roam Cas’ face and he licks his lips and takes a breath. He begins to lean in, and Cas knows what’s coming. He takes Ev’s face gently in his hands and smiles, then presses a tender kiss to Ev’s cheek. When Ev smiles and tries to move toward Cas’ mouth, Cas steps back, still holding his face.

“Listen to me, Ev,” Cas rumbles. “You’re a great guy and you deserve a great guy…”

“Thanks, you too,” Ev says before trying again. Cas refrains from chuckling and holds his face still.

“...And that’s why you should save your first kiss with a man for someone who wants you as much as you want him, someone who’s all in. I’m not that man.”

“You don’t like me?” he frowns.

“I like you very much,” he assures the man. “You are smart, attractive, and wonderful to be around.”

“This is the ‘let’s be friends’ speech, isn’t it?” Ev asks, his face falling.

“Yes, it is, because I would love to be friends with you.” He lets go of his face and places his hands on his shoulders. “This is also the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, because that is also true. Frankly, if we’d met before I… if we’d met under different circumstances, things might be different. But my heart is preoccupied. I’m sorry.” Ev nods and bites his lip. “You know what, though?” Cas continues, smiling with a glimmer of mischief, “I know many wonderful gay and bi men. I’d be a great wingman for you.”

Ev laughs despite himself. “That would be cool,” he says.

“So, friends?” Cas asks.

“Friends,” Ev agrees.

Cas claps him on the shoulder. “Get some rest, Ev.”

“You too.” Cas nods and trots down the stairs. “Hey,” Ev calls when he reaches the sidewalk. He turns. “I meant it. You deserve a great guy.”

Cas smiles his thanks and turns away. “Wait!” he calls again, and Cas turns once more. “It’s the plumber, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The one who has you all ‘preoccupied.’ It’s the plumber. The guy who helped you with your water thing a few weeks back.”

Cas smiles but doesn’t confirm anything. He turns and walks the short distance to his house.

“I think he likes you, too!” Ev calls out when Cas steps onto his porch. He pretends he didn’t hear it as he unlocks his door and enters his empty house. He wishes he hadn’t heard it. There’s a big difference between liking someone enough for a friendly fuck and loving someone.

“Shit,” he moans as he curls up on the couch, falling asleep to Netflix with tears wetting his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think Dean’s brother and friends have cooked up for him? To find out, check out chapter 14 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/  
> 13387479).


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter! <3

“How was the date?” Gabe asks Cas’ sleeping form on the couch.

“Don’t you ever go home?” Cas mutters into the throw pillow.

“Why go home when there’s so much entertainment here?” He pokes at Cas’ ribs until his brother swats him away. “So, how was it?”

“Fine.”

“Anna said you guys ended up at Nightingale.” Cas grunts in confirmation. “So, you guys hook up or what? She said you left together.”

“Most people on a date leave together, Gabe.” He sits up and rubs his tired, bloodshot eyes.

“Yeah, and? Did you?”

“No. And I fulfilled my agreement with you, so now you can fulfill yours and stop asking me about my dating life. Forever.”

“No problem. I doubt you’ll have much of one, anyway.”

“Finally, something we agree on.” Cas drags himself to the kitchen and prepares a pot of coffee, cursing himself for not setting the auto-start last night before he soaked his throw pillow with his tears. He slumps into a chair at the table while he waits. His brother takes the chair next to him and sits silently, watching him as the coffee drips into the pot. Cas rolls his eyes and flops his head down onto his folded arms.

“See, I knew it,” he says eventually. “You’re gonna go back to your boring life because that’s what you do. You roll over and take it.”

Cas scowls at the older man as he stands to collect a couple of mugs. “My life is not boring.”

“LIke hell it isn’t,” Gabe retorts. “Your life’s been boring since you got involved with Daph, maybe before that.”

“I’m sorry you don’t get a thrill from working with numbers, but…”

“That’s not it at all! If you get your jollies from working with numbers, great. You love rules and order, great. Nothing wrong with that. But that’s not all you are, and you know it. You’ve suppressed parts of yourself, given up things you’ve wanted, and for what?”

Cas places the mugs on the table a little too hard, sloshing coffee over the sides. “I haven’t done that.”

“You have and you know it. Where’s your fire, man?”

“I grew up, Gabe. I matured.”

“Yeah, well, your maturity sucks.” He pokes a hard finger on Cas’ chest. “The C.J. I know is in there wouldn’t have just walked away.”

“Walked away from what?”

“You know what!” Gabe slams a hand on the table. “You know exactly what. I’ve been pushing to get you to see it, and you just keep rolling and rolling.”

“I don’t know what…”

“Yeah, you do. Damn it, C.J., you used to climb sequoias just because you could, even though you knew you wouldn’t reach the top. You used to research the stars, trying to find one no one’s discovered yet. You used to run just for fun. You argued with any adult you thought was wrong. You used to just _be_ and didn’t give a shit about how people perceived you. You went through your little rebellion thing, fine. Fuckin’ weirdest teenage rebellion I’ve ever seen, but whatever. Then you started to come back to yourself, and then you found Daphne and it all went to hell in a handbasket because you thought she would accept all of you, weirdness included. But she didn’t, C.J.! She didn’t! She made you who she wanted you to be. She took the parts she liked about you and made you repress the ones she didn’t. Where’s the guy who DJ’d with me while taking his accounting classes? Where’s the guy who went out with his friends and let loose while still paying all his bills like a responsible boy? Where’s the guy who chased wild animals, dreams, and knowledge? Where’s the guy who was completely comfortable with himself, who laughed and played and enjoyed life?” Gabe stops for breath, and Cas focuses on a knot in the oak table.

“I know where he is,” Gabe says with conviction. He grabs his brother by the shoulders and forces him to look at him. He pokes his finger on Cas’ chest again. “He’s in there. Know how I know? Because I finally saw him again. When you were with Loverboy.”

Cas says nothing.

“When you were with him, you walked with your head held high. You took care of yourself. You laughed, you did dumb shit, you ate lunch, you became sociable again. You were living, not just existing. And you let it all go.”

Cas looks away, a defeated look overtaking his features. “He didn’t want more. He said so.”

Gabe throws his hands in the air. “When? When he just found out his dumbass boyfriend cheated on him? Did you ask him recently?”

Cas shakes his head. “He never said anything…”

“Because your Hottie rolls over, too. He’s just as hopeless as you.”

“He’s not hopeless,” Cas scowls, his eyes meeting Gabe’s angrily. Gabe smirks.

“Dude, Hottie is as hopeless as they come. Lets others take advantage of him, can’t see what’s happening when it’s right under his nose…”

“That wasn’t his fault!”

“No?” he says, staring at his fingernails. “Seems like a character flaw to me. Clueless, dumb mechanic who lives above a bar…”

“He is not!” Cas yells as his chair screeches across the floor from his sudden movement. “What the fuck do you know about him?”

“I know what I need to know,” Gabe says with a dismissive wave. “Hottie’s just like any other guy out there.”

“No, he’s not! You don’t even know him. He’s kind and sweet and funny. He’s generous and thoughtful. He’s sensitive and caring and smart and skillful!”

Gabe folds his arms and watches him with a look of disdain. “What’s it matter if he is? Hottie’s just a one-night stand to you, Cas.”

“Goddamnit, Gabe, his name is _Dean_ , and he’s not just a one-night stand to me!”

“Then what is he?”

“He’s…” Cas stops as his throat constricts and his eyes water. He glances at Gabe, who’s gazing back at him with soft eyes and a small, understanding smile. Cas thinks back to everything Gabe has ever said about the two of them and sees it in a new perspective. “Damn it, Gabe, you fucking did it again, didn’t you?”

Gabe winks. “Reverse psychology always worked great on you. Took a lot longer this time. Used to be I could get you to do whatever I wanted within minutes just by saying the opposite of whatever I wanted you to do. You’re not in touch with your inner rebel quite as much these days.”

Cas shakes his head and sits down, and Gabe rests his head in his hand and watches his brother. “You love him,” he says quietly.

“I do. Is that crazy?”

Gabe nudges Cas’ hand with his own. “I don’t think so. You guys have been practically dating for months. You guys trust each other and you’ve been there for each other. You guys like being around each other. Sounds like a good recipe for falling in love to me. Besides, even if it is crazy, who cares? Crazy kinda works for our family.”

Cas huffs and shakes his head as a tiny smile emerges. “You called me Cas,” he says.

Gabe smiles. “Yeah. I think it suits you.”

They let the silence fill the air for a while, their sips of coffee and the hum of the refrigerator the only noise.

“I don’t think he feels the same way,” Cas finally speaks in a quiet, resigned voice.

“I think you’re wrong,” Gabe responds, his own quiet voice tinged with hope and confidence.

Cas rubs his arms as if he’s cold. “I saw his friends last night and they didn’t say he misses me or anything about him to me. I see Jo five days a week and she doesn’t say anything to me.”

“Maybe he asked them not to. I mean, if he’s a miserable mess but thinks you don’t want anything more, he’d probably swear his friends to secrecy, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” he acknowledges.

“Glad you haven’t sworn me to secrecy,” he grins.

“Gabe…”

“So, gonna do something about this love connection?” he asks quickly in order to distract the man from delivering his warning.

“I don’t know,” Cas moans, rubbing his temples.

Gabe sighs at his brother’s stubbornness. “You know what your life will be like without him? It’ll be just like last night. It’ll be just like every other night that hasn’t had him in it. That’s why I wanted you to go on those dates, Cas. I wanted you to feel how wrong and boring and awful it would be without him.” Cas sniffles but says nothing. “Don’t let him get away just because of some stupid agreement you made before you guys really knew each other. Dean’s a great guy. I’ve never seen you so happy or so miserable.” He chucks Cas gently on the chin.

“I’ll think about it.” At Gabe’s skeptical glare, he says, “Really, I will. I promise. I just have to… think it through, make a plan.”

“You do that, kid,” he says, ruffling his hair. Cas rubs his eyes and misses his brother’s devious smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s almost done, everyone! Thank you for hanging in there! 
> 
> To see Dean confront his past and for a sisterly chat with Jo, check out chapter 15 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/  
> 13387479).


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but very sweet. ;)

Cas is meeting with one of his favorite clients, a woman named Jody Mills, when they’re interrupted by Cas’ assistant.

“Castiel?” Jo’s voice crackles over the speaker of his desk phone.  He eyes the phone in confusion before apologizing to Jody and answering Jo, who knows he’s in an appointment.

“Yes?”

“You need to come out here,” Jo says.  She sounds nervous, something Cas has never heard in her voice.  

“Is everything alright?”

“Just come out here, please,” she begs.  He excuses himself from Jody, who simply follows him into the waiting area.  Jo is at her desk, her computer streaming a radio station.  Cas hears a song end and a too-familiar voice identify the station and the song.  He groans.

“What is this about?” Cas demands.

“Shh, just listen,” she insists as she waves him toward her.  Jody sits in a chair facing the desk while Cas stands near the edge of the desk and tries not to imagine what can of worms his brother is about to open and how Jo is involved.  

“It’s 75 degrees and sunny on a beautiful Monday morning and you’re listening to the Gabe and Zar Show.  So here’s a little something for your Monday,” Gabriel starts.  Jo and Jody are leaning toward the computer; Cas has the sudden urge to run as far as he can.  “Just wanted to give you the update on the continuing saga of C.J. and Hottie.”

“Ah, yes, it’s like our own little soap opera,” Zar jokes.

“Oh, I’ve been following this!” Jody exclaims.  Jo turns the volume up while Cas hides his face in his hands.

“Indeed, Zar, indeed,” Gabe continues.  “And speaking of deeds… they did the deed, my friends.  I repeat: they did the deed.”

“No!” Zar says with false shock.

“Yup.  Two, three weeks ago now.”

“And how was it?  I mean, if it was good, maybe the whole delayed hookup thing will catch on.”

“Well, from the report I got…”

Cas prays that Gabe doesn’t recite what he told their family at the lake, but he wouldn’t put it past him.

“...it was good.  Great, even.”

“Oh!  Well, good.  Now they can get on with their lives.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?  But would it ever be that uncomplicated?”

Cas groans as he peeks through his fingers at the computer in horror.  Jo slides over in her chair and pulls him down to share her seat.  

“See, the thing is, one of them fell in love and the other one… well, who knows, really?  He never said anything, just said sayonara.  Kind of a jerk move, if you ask me.  Now, we’re an unbiased show so I’m not gonna name names — and Lord knows they’ve both been idiots — but they know who’s who and frankly, I’m pissed at both of them.”

“Well, it’s definitely a jerk move to not even acknowledge the guy’s feelings, Gabe. Couldn’t the jerk tell that the other guy was in love with him?”

“Well, I mean, to be fair the jerk didn’t ask and the other one didn’t confess.  But I mean, anyone with functioning eyes could see it.  It was pretty damn obvious.”  Cas groans.  He knew he’d worn his heart on his sleeve.  “And now the jerk is responsible for breaking the other guy’s heart.”

“He just let him go?”

“Just like that.”

“What an arse.”

“Exactly.  I mean, the jerk’s clearly the one who wanted to stick to the agreement, you know?”

“That just makes him a bigger arse, being so rigid and whatnot.  Agreements can be changed.”

“I know.  It was cruel, really, especially since it was so obvious the other guy loves him.  I never in my life would have thought the jerk could be so selfish, considering how nice he’d been to the other guy and everything he did for him.”

“What a pity.”

Cas had been mumbling back to the radio, quietly defending Dean’s honor, but at the word “selfish” he scowls and stands.

“He’s the most selfless man I know!  How can he say that?  How?” Cas asks indignantly, waving his hands in the air while Jo and Jody watch in amusement. He digs his phone out of his pocket to berate his brother, but fumbles and drops it in his anxiousness and anger.  Picking it up swiftly, he unlocks it to dial, but before he can tap out the number another voice comes through the speakers and makes his breath catch.

“Hello, you’re on the air with…”

“What the hell, Gabe?  How can you sit there and trash your own brother?”

“Well hello, Hottie,” Gabe drawls, smug and clearly amused.

“It’s Dean,” he huffs, “and you’re twisting this thing all wrong.  He isn’t a jerk.  We made an agreement, and we stuck to it.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  It’s not his fault my feelings changed, alright?  I knew what this was.  I didn’t plan to… you know, fall in love with him.  But it happened, and that’s on me.  Don’t blame him for that.”

“Oh my God,” Cas whispers, clutching his phone in a death grip.  “Oh my God.  Oh my God!”  A smile bursts out of his confusion and surprise as his body vibrates with joy.

Jo grins at him and gives him a little shove.  “You should go get your man, Cas.”

“Go get your man!  Go!  Go!” Jody yells, bouncing in her seat and shooing him away.

Cas drops his phone on Jo’s desk and bolts out of the office.  He knows he looks like a man possessed, running down the sidewalk in a suit in the middle of summer, but he doesn’t care because Dean loves him.   _Dean loves me_.  He doesn’t stop running until he grabs the door of Dean’s workplace — his momentum nearly dislocating his arm — and flings it open.  Dean is looming over the reception desk, surrounded by garage employees and customers alike, saying something as he hovers over what Cas assumes is his phone on speaker.  Dean looks up at the sudden intrusion and stops talking altogether.  He looks like hell and yet he’s still so perfect.

“Cas?” he asks cautiously.  

“I love you, Dean,” he rasps, flushed and panting.

“Cas, what?” he asks, coming around the tall counter apprehensively.

“Dean.  I love you.”  Dean is in front of him now and Cas grabs his coveralls with one hand and his left shoulder with the other.  “I don’t care about our agreement.  I love…”  

Cas’ words are stopped by Dean’s desperate mouth on his.  Cas, still breathless from the run and adrenaline, pants and laughs and kisses Dean as Dean’s arms tighten around him.  Between kisses, Dean laughs along with him and whispers “I love you” as relief floods their eyes.  

In the background, everyone in the waiting area cheers and Gabe’s tinny voice says over the phone, “Ah, I love a good love story.  Our work here is done, Zar.  We’ll let you know when the wedding is, my dear listeners!”  Cas and Dean hear none of it, the only important sound being those three little words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, our sweet boys in love. <3 But it’s not over yet, because we need some reunion sex. ;)
> 
> We’ll wrap it up next week with one more chapter and the epilogue!
> 
> To see what happens on Dean’s side of things (including the rest of the conversation you misse during Cas’ wild sprint), check out chapter 16 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/  
> 13387479).


	17. Chapter 17

Customers and employees alike offer their congratulations as their frenzied kisses slow down and they hold each other in the tidy waiting room that smells faintly of motor oil.  Without separating, they offer their thanks and nod at several people’s comments that “it’s about time.”  Cas is intoxicated by the feeling of holding Dean in his arms without the panic that it will all be coming to an end.  

“Winchester!  Now that you’re not _pining_ anymore, maybe you can actually get some work done!” Rufus gripes when the well-wishers disperse, though the corners of the man’s mouth are ticked up slightly.  Dean rubs his forehead and looks properly guilty.  Cas feels a bit guilty himself.

“Sorry,” Cas murmurs to Dean.  “I shouldn’t have barged in at your workplace…”

“Don’t apologize,” Dean says as he gives Cas one last kiss on the cheek.  “But yeah, I should get to work.  I’ve been slacking pretty bad lately.”

“Me too,” Cas admits.  “Time for lunch today?”

Dean shakes his head regretfully.  “Can’t.  Got appointments booked straight through ‘til 5:00.  I’m so far behind, and I didn’t expect...”  He sighs as he looks into Cas’ eyes.  “Although, maybe I could…”

“No,” Cas scolds him gently, “you get your stuff done, and come to my house after work.  You can take a shower there if you want, and I’ll make you dinner.”  Dean’s face brightens in joy and relief, and Cas feels like he could fly.

“Damn, you’re the best, Cas,” he says, leaning in for one more kiss before letting go.

“See you tonight, Dean,” he smiles.  He hears Rufus grumbling “‘Bout time you two smartened up” as the door swings shut behind him.

The entire walk back to his office, Cas feels like he’s in one of those musicals where everybody’s singing in the streets.  Everyone he sees smiles at him.  Colors are brighter.  The birds seem louder and their songs seem happier.  He takes off his suit jacket and tie and rolls up his sleeves.  He hums a nameless tune and giggles to himself for no reason.  He feels his own smile stretching his face, and he wonders whether people are smiling at him because of the joy on his face or because they think he’s a bit deranged and don’t want to piss him off.  The thought only makes him laugh.  

“Hey, Cas,” Jo says with a teasing lilt when he strolls through the door.  Jody’s still there, too; there are coffee cups and the crullers Jody brought earlier sitting on paper plates between them.  

“Hi,” he grins.  The women laugh at his giddiness.

“You’re quite the runner,” Jody comments after a sip of coffee.  At Cas’ puzzled look, she clarifies, “We watched you out the window.  You were running like your life depended on it.”

 _It sort of did,_  he thinks.  He shrugs and chuckles.

“I’m very happy for you,” Jody continues.  “Totally worth delaying our appointment.”

“Oh,” he says, his face dropping a bit, “yes, oh, I’m so sorry, I just…”

“Now don’t you apologize for that!  When you have a chance at true love, you go for it.”  She smiles warmly at him, and he chuckles again and rubs his face, nodding the whole time and feeling infinitely grateful for such supportive people in his life.

“We’re gonna finish our stuff,” Jo says, gesturing to their food, “and there’s some in your office for you.  Go pull yourself together so you can maybe get something done besides declaring your love over the airwaves.  Totally cute, by the way.”  She grins and Cas smiles bashfully.  

“You heard all that?”

“Of course!  It was precious.”

“So precious,” Jody adds.

“And we were in on it, you know,” Jo says, confirming Cas’ thought that this was all a carefully orchestrated scheme to get one or both of them to break.  

“Of course you were,” he says, trying to sound stern but sounding fond instead.  He smiles and leans down to hug her.  “Thank you.”

“What can I say?  I like seeing you two happy,” Jo says, trying to sound unaffected by Cas’ gratitude.  He smiles and lets her believe he doesn’t know how sentimental she can be.

Cas steps into his office and closes the door.  He drapes his suit jacket and tie over a chair and looks out the window.  If he angles his head just so, he can see the sign for the garage.  He smiles and pulls out his phone.

_To Gabe 9:57am:  Thank you._

He makes it through the day but leaves early, vowing to himself to make it up sometime during the week.  At home, he showers and tidies up what little there is to tidy up from the morning (he’s been stress-cleaning since The Day so most of the house is spotless), then sets about making dinner.  The steaks are just coming off the grill when Dean arrives, wrapping his arms around him from behind and smiling into his neck as he drops a bag onto the deck.  He turns in his arms and Dean greets him with a luscious kiss.  He smells like Ivory soap, Cas notices, and he assumes he took a shower at the garage or his apartment or who the hell cares because now he’s kissing him _right there_ and nothing else matters.  While the steaks rest Dean kisses every inch of Cas’ face and neck, sending Cas into helpless giggles when it tickles and helpless sighs the rest of the time.  They let the steaks rest a little longer than necessary.

Throughout their dinner of steak, baked potatoes, and watermelon, Cas and Dean talk about their time apart; it’s clear they were both completely miserable, and they vow to put it behind them and move forward.  When it’s time for the pie Cas picked up at the bakery on his way home, he brings it to the table while Dean searches for a pie server.  

“You kept them,” Dean says.  He shows Cas the gingerbread men that Cas had tucked into a drawer when he’d returned from the lake.  

“I did.  Zar bagged them up for me when he picked up the fans, and I couldn’t bear to get rid of them.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Dean says with a soft smile.  He pulls Cas into his arms and kisses him, a long, lingering press of lips that feels like _I missed you_ .  Cas responds with an arm around his waist and a hand that cradles his face that says _I missed you, too_.

“You know, dessert is what led to everything else last time,” Cas teases, his eyes sparkling with love for the man in his arms.  

“I do love dessert best,” Dean winks as he nuzzles Cas’ nose with his own.  “Well, second best,” he adds with the same love in his eyes that fills Cas’.

“You could eat it off my body,” Cas suggests.  “Combine your two loves.”

“Dear God, I’m in love with a genius,” Dean declares, surprising Cas by giving him the pie and the forks and server and then scooping Cas up in his arms and carrying him to his bedroom.  

Dean sets him on the bed, then takes the pie from Cas’ hands and sets it on his dresser, followed by the forks and server.  He undresses Cas slowly, lavishing his skin with kisses and sweeps of his tongue, and Cas can do nothing to stop the fire from spreading, nor does he want to.  He clings on to whatever part of Dean he can reach, a feat made harder by Dean’s constant movement.  Cas’ swell against Dean’s thigh makes the dirty blond press against him tightly.  “How ‘bout you pound me this time, Sweetheart?” he asks, low and seductive, before sliding down and taking Cas’ thick cock in his mouth.  Cas moans and swears, and the vibrations of Dean’s amused humming makes Cas forget the question.  Dean slowly pulls off with a soft _pop_ and hovers above Cas, caressing his face with the backs of his fingers.  “So?  How ‘bout it?”

Cas, remembering the question, has a moment of panic.  He would love to surround himself with Dean, to feel the man clench around him as he comes, but is this something Dean really wants after everything with his ex?  He doesn’t want Dean to feel uncomfortable or obligated to switch if he doesn’t feel ready.  He reaches a hand out to smooth his fingertips over Dean’s kiss-swollen lips.  “Are you sure?  We really don’t have to.  I would love to, but it’s perfectly fine if…”  Cas’ protest is swallowed by a hard, lusty kiss that leaves no room for argument or even breathing.

“You aren’t him or anyone else.  You’re you, and that’s why I absolutely want this.  With you.”  Cas watches as Dean reaches over to the nightstand and fumbles around for the lube, having to slide his hand all the way to the back of the drawer to reach it because Cas shoved it back there and hasn’t touched it since.  He hands it to Cas and rolls off him and onto his back.  

Cas marvels at the sight of a trusting, open Dean in his bed.  He sets the lube aside for a moment and leans in, kissing him deeply before sitting him up and tugging his shirt over his head.  He lays him back down and wriggles Dean’s shorts and boxers off, then licks stripes of desire from his ankles to his ears until the strong, sexy man is a sweet, sticky puddle of want, completely melted and sunk into the mattress like a Popsicle on the sidewalk in the middle of summer.  

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas whispers in his tongue-ravished ear.

“I want to feel you inside me,” Dean says with absolute confidence and desire in his voice.  “C’mon, Sweetheart.  Please.”

“Of course.”  Cas cannot, _will not_ deny him, so he lifts his lover’s legs and separates them before diving in to lavish him with more attention from his tongue.  Dean’s responding wail is high-pitched and needy and surprises both of them.  Cas looks up, surprised and a little worried. “Is this okay, Dean?  I’ll loosen you with my fingers, too, but I can stop if you’re uncomfortable…”

“No, I mean yes, I mean don’t stop!” he begs breathlessly.  “It’s awesome.  No one’s ever done that for me.  Keep going!”

Cas, shocked that not one person has ever done this for him, wastes no time in rimming Dean.  He laves him, spears him, leaves kisses and tiny bites, and loses himself in both his own pleasure and Dean’s until Dean is begging for Cas to fill him.  The begging fills Cas with a different kind of pleasure, knowing that Dean wants him as much as he wants Dean.  He looks at the man he loves, flushed and blissed-out, and can’t help but smile and kiss him.  He loves the look of complete trust on his face.  Not wanting to break that trust, Cas doesn’t tease him.  Instead, he lubes his fingers and adds one, then two of them with no resistance.  He moves to suck on Dean’s cock while he opens him further with a third finger, but Dean yanks him up by his shoulders and kisses him deeply.  “Please,” he whispers between them when they part.  

“Fuck,” Cas says, rubbing his nose against Dean’s as he catches his breath before turning away.  The love in Dean’s eyes makes him want to cry.  Cas digs in the drawer for a condom and rolls it on, then coats himself in lubricant and slides in slowly, facing Dean the entire time.  Once he’s fully seated, he asks, “Okay?”

“Better than okay, Cas,” Dean says.  “Perfect.”  

Hearing and believing his response, Cas presses all the love he’s feeling for the man into every kiss from his lips, every roll of his hips, every stroke of his hand.  He feels Dean’s trust in his muscles and skin, sees it his eyes, knows it in his heart.  It occurs to him that he hasn’t felt that sort of openness in… ever, he thinks.  It’s the kind of trust from his partner that he thought he should’ve felt in his marriage, but never quite did.  It’s a mutual trust, Cas realizes, for he trusts Dean just as much.  It comes with being who you truly are with someone -- weird, insecure, fearful, silly.  He smiles to himself as he thinks about how he had to have a one-night stand to find this kind of love and pleasure.  “I love you,” Cas whispers into his ear, and the man he loves seizes and shakes as he’s pulled over the edge.  Cas, feeling Dean all around him, follows.

Sweat cools their bodies as they roll to their sides and separate, neither going any farther than arm’s reach.  They lay facing each other with smiles on their faces and peace in their minds and souls.

“If your brother comes by right now,” Dean mumbles through his post-sex drowsiness as he traces Cas’ features, “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Even though he’s the reason we got our heads out of our asses?”

“Alright, first I’ll thank him, then I’ll kill him.”

“Alright.  Although we could just kick him out, I suppose.”

“If you insist.”  Dean kisses the tip of his nose.  “Your brother’s kind of a sneaky bastard.”

“He is.  His heart’s usually in the right place, though.”

“Yeah.  Glad he was cheering for us.  In his own demented way.”

“Me too.  We can stop talking about my brother now,” Cas says as he pulls Dean closer.  

Dean snuggles into Cas’ side and agrees, then asks, “What would you like to talk about instead?”

Cas thinks back to all the fantasies he’s ever had about the beautiful man next to him and smiles.  “Hmm.  Let’s talk about everything we can do before we part ways tomorrow.”

“Part ways?” Dean looks up with a worried frown.

“Well, yes.  We do have to go to work tomorrow,” Cas reminds him.  Dean smacks his arm, startling him.

“Don’t scare me like that!  Fuck, for a second I thought…”

Cas, suddenly understanding with sickening clarity where Dean’s mind went, absorbs the rest of the sentence in a kiss.  “Oh Dean, no. I love you,” he reassures him when their lips part.  “I want a relationship.  I want strings attached, tying us together.  I don’t want to part after tonight, or tomorrow night, or any night.  Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Dean says with a sigh of relief, resting his head on Cas’ shoulder and his hand on Cas’ heart.  

“Best agreement ever.”  He kisses the top of Dean’s head and Dean hums and relaxes in his arms.  “Now, about how we’ll fill the next twelve hours…”

Twelve hours brings an extensive and ecstatic study of Cas’ tattoo in the shower, a loud primer in the pleasures of rimming, a midnight demonstration of Dean’s pink-and-black zippered panties and the prostate stimulating action of Cas’ toy, and a greasy breakfast between the exhausted, love-drunk fools.  

No one is surprised when the men take the day off.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, these two. <3
> 
> For Dean’s POV, check out chapter 17 of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479).


	18. Epilogue

Cas has gotten very little work done today, despite being at the office since 8:00.  Most of his day has been spent overthinking to the point of unproductivity.  He knew he wouldn’t get much done at the office today, but he couldn’t bear to be home, either.  He’s too keyed up for date night.

Every Friday night since they began dating has been date night, but Cas has been anticipating this particular date night for weeks.  He wonders if it’s too soon.  He wonders if he’ll be able to get the words out.  He wonders if he’ll make a fool of himself in front of everyone.  He rubs his sweating hands together, feeling chilled with nerves despite the sultry July day.

“Stop your damn worrying,” Gabe says, watching his brother pace back and forth in his office.  “Everything will be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” Cas grumbles.  “What if…”

“What if aliens kidnap and probe us, Cas?  ‘Cause that’s a lot more likely than Dean saying no.”

“Gabe…”

“He’s been like this all day,” Jo interrupts the brothers, barging into the office like she owns it.  She’s become much more casual since Cas and Dean started officially dating nearly a year ago.  “I keep telling him he has _nothing_ to worry about, because _seriously,_  does he not see what everyone else sees?”

“I know!” Gabe replies, hands flying in the air for emphasis.  “It’s as if he isn’t a participant in his own life, where Dean worships the ground he walks on!”

“Not helping, you two,” Cas whines.  “I really wish you two hadn’t become friends sometimes.”  He pulls at the striped blue tie that’s much too hot to be wearing.  In fact, he hasn’t worn it in months, slowly weaning himself away from the suits and into more business casual wear.  

“You’re going to be fine.  Everything’s going to be fine,” Gabe says in a voice that sounds like some New Age meditation CD.  “When’s he showing up at the bar?  Tell us the plan again.”

“Seven,” Cas answers, then recites the plan he’s repeated to himself over and over, always finding some flaw but never coming up with anything better.  “I told him to meet me at 7:00 at the Roadhouse and not at home, since I’ll be coming right from the office.  He thinks I’m working late with a new client.  Fuck, I hope he’s not mad that I had to lie to him…”

“Stop.  He’ll understand.  What’s the rest of the plan?”

“Sam and Jess will stop at the house before going the the Roadhouse to make sure he doesn’t suspect anything and to keep him from leaving too early or meeting me at the office.  I’ll arrive just after 7:00.  We’ll order beers, talk about our days.  Ellen will tell you guys when to come in.  I’ll say my thing, and then we’ll either celebrate or you’ll carry me out of there in a puddle of heartbroken tears.”

“Stop that!” Jo and Gabe say together, each of them smacking one of his arms.

“Dude, relax,” Gabe continues.  

“Eat something,” Jo urges, pulling a drawer open and digging through his snack stash.  “Here, eat this protein bar thing with the twigs and berries in it.”  She throws it on the desk as if it burned her.  

“I can’t,” Cas says, pushing it away.  “I’ll throw up if I eat something, I swear.”

“He’s already seen that, don’t worry,” Gabe jokes.  Cas shoves his shoulder, not appreciating the reminder of _that_ night. Salad and oysters have never held the same appeal since.

“C’mon, Cas, you’ve barely eaten.  If Dean hadn’t come by for lunch you wouldn’t have eaten anything at all.  And you barely ate that.  Dean asked me if you were sick or something,” Jo says.  

 _Great, now he thinks something’s up._  “That would explain his text earlier.  He must’ve been worried about me,” Cas says, picking up his phone and scrolling to their conversation:

_To Cas 1:48pm:  You still want to do date night tonight?_

_To Dean 1:50pm:  Of course.  You don’t?_

_To Cas 1:51pm:  Yeah, of course I do.  Just making sure since you have to work late and all._

_To Cas 1:51pm:  You feeling okay?_

_To Dean 1:52pm:  Yes, why?_

_To Cas 1:52pm:  You just looked kind of pale._

_To Dean 1:53pm:  I’m fine.  Just busy and a little tired.  Didn’t sleep well last night._

_To Cas 1:54pm:  Yeah, I noticed.  Well, I know you’re busy, but don’t work too hard.  I already told you I’m not into corpse sex.  ;P_

_To Dean 1:55pm:  Don’t worry, I won’t work too hard.  See you tonight at 7:00.  Love you._

_To Cas 1:55pm:  Love you_

“Idiots in love, I swear,” Gabe snarks as he roots around in Cas’ drawer.  “Here.  Eat this instead.  It has some sugar in it.  You need to stop shaking.”

Cas notices his hands are trembling and he feels a little lightheaded, so he takes their advice and eats both bars they offered, along with drinking a glass of water.  He does feel a bit better after, at least until the text comes in.

_From Ellen 6:51pm:  Dean’s here._

_Oh, this is real now.  Shit’s getting real.  Fuck, fuck, fuck…_

“Cas!” Gabe shouts, by the sound of it not for the first time.  “Stop panicking.  Everything will be fine.”

“It’ll be great, honey,” Jo says, grasping his arm.  “He’s going to say yes.  You’re a smart guy, Cas.  If you didn’t know in your heart of hearts that he would say yes, you wouldn’t ask.”

It’s true, Cas knows. He _knows_ Dean loves him. He sees it in his face, hears it in his words, feels it in his touch. They’ve been through so much together, and life has only gotten better and better.  Hell, they even got around to breaking that bed frame.  But loving someone and being ready to commit a lifetime to someone are two different things.  They’ve talked about a future, but talk is talk.  This is action.  

 “Got your flowery speech?” Gabe asks.

Cas pats his pocket, feeling the index card and the rings.  “Yes.”  He swallows and wrings his hands.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Gabe says.  “You can just have a nice date night on this, your boinking anniversary, and Dean never has to be the wiser.  You don’t have to make that commitment to him.  You don’t have to tell him how much you want to spend your life with him.  I’m sure he’ll figure it out someday.”

“Shut up, Gabe, I know what you’re doing.”  Cas elbows him, then walks to the window, swallowing his nerves.  “I want this.  I want to tell him.  I want to be committed to him, now and forever.  I’m just so damn nervous.”

“I know,” his brother replies, pulling him into an uncharacteristically tender, comforting hug.  “You’re gonna be great.  I swear to you, Cas, you could be standing in a pile of manure and ask him and he would say yes.   _He loves you._ ”

“C’mon, Cas, go get your man,” Jo smiles, taking his arm.  He’s reminded of those same words she uttered just under a year ago, when Dean blurted out on the radio that he was in love with him and Cas ran out of the office, down the street, and into Dean’s arms.  It’s a good memory, and it calms him enough to feel like he can get through this.  This is Dean.  He loves Dean.  Dean loves him.  Even if Dean doesn’t want to marry him, they can stay together.  Probably.  Right?  He grips Jo’s hand where it rests at the crook of his elbow.  

“Let’s go,” he breathes.

He drives alone to the Roadhouse and parks in the back, where he used to park when Dean lived there.  He didn’t live there very long once they started dating.  By the end of the summer, Gabe brought his truck around to the little apartment and to Sam and Jess’ place, and Dean, Cas, Sam, Gabe, and Ev (who’d decided to stay and became a great friend to both of them) moved Dean’s belongings into Cas’ house.  He walks to the building two doors down, where several of their friends and family members are parked out of sight of the bar, waiting in their cars until they get the text from Ellen to come in.  He gives a small wave to all of them, nodding and biting his lip, and they all smile and wave or give him a thumbs-up.  His mother and father, probably noticing his nervousness, come rushing out of their RV to embrace him, and soon he feels like he’s the smallest nesting doll in the set as his brother and sister, then Dean’s family and their friends, gather around him and layer him in love and reassurance.  

“You got this, Cas,” Jess, his pregnant future sister-in-law, says with a smile.  

“Yeah, Dean’s nuts about you, don’t worry,” Sam adds.

“You’ll know just what to say,” his father, Stellan, assures him as his mother kisses his temple.

“We are so excited to have you in our family officially,” Mary says with her hands on Cas’ face, and John smiles and pats him on the shoulder.

“Thank you, everyone.  Love you,” Cas says, licking his lips and turning toward the bar.  “Okay, here I go,” he says, but he doesn’t move his feet forward until Gabe shoves him.

“Dude, you ran from the police in China and convinced an angry bear in Alaska not to maul you,” Gabe reminds him.  “This is a cakewalk.  Go.”

“Right,” Cas says, and begins walking toward the bar.  

“Get that ass, Cas!” Charlie, Zar, and Hannah yell behind him, and he laughs and keeps walking.  

Stepping into the Roadhouse tonight is so similar, yet so different from the first time.  The furnishings, the smell, and the atmosphere are the same, but he’s no longer tipsy and looking for a good time with whoever catches his interest.  Tonight, and for the rest of his life, he only has eyes for one man.  That man is at the bar, talking with Ellen and looking even more perfect than usual.  His body is relaxed but he holds himself tall and proud, not an ounce of the defeat, misery, or self-doubt that plagued him when they met here over a year ago.  He’s laughing, his mirth genuine and deep.   _God, I love him so much_ , Cas thinks.  He strides up to the bar and surprises his lover.

“Know where I can find some fun around here?” Cas murmurs in his ear as he strokes his bare, muscled arm, tanned from their weekend outings and their morning walks with their adopted dog, Sadie.  

“Hell yeah I do,” Dean grins at him, turning his face to Cas’ for a kiss.  They giggle through several light kisses before Cas settles onto a barstool.  

“Have you eaten yet?” Cas asks.

“Nah, figured I’d wait for you, see what you wanted to do.”

“Mmm, okay.  Beer first, then we can decide?” Cas asks and Dean, thankfully, agrees.

“Sounds good.  Ellen said it was rude to start without you, so she wouldn’t give me a beer,” Dean says, a tiny, disgruntled pout turning his mouth down.  Cas grins.

“You poor thing,” he teases.  Cas calls Ellen over and orders them each a beer, flashing a quick wink to her that Dean doesn’t see.  She nods, getting the message, and returns with the two beers a short while later.  They each take long draughts, allowing the comfortable silence between them to linger as they decompress from the week.  That’s what Cas wants Dean to think, anyway.  In reality, Dean is probably decompressing, but Cas certainly is not.  His “flowery speech” and the rings rest heavily in his pocket.  “Tell me about your day,” Cas says to keep Dean distracted from looking behind him, where he knows their friends and family will be gathering.

“Ugh, it sucked,” he says, and launches into a tale of a very rude customer with an impossible request.  Cas listens but watches Ellen out of the corner of his eye for her signal that everyone is there.  When she drops a red rag onto the counter and starts cleaning with it, he knows it’s time.  He listens to Dean as the entire U.S. Olympic Gymnastics Team practices in his gut.  “So I guess I blew my Yelp review with the guy,” Dean laughs.  

“Wow, sounds like your day really sucked,” Cas offers, even though he knows he’s just repeating what Dean said.  Dean nods, not seeming bothered by the repetition.  He licks his lips and places a hand on Dean’s leg.  

“Gettin’ frisky with me, Cas?” Dean jokes as he takes a swig of his beer.  

“Just wish I could make your day better,” Cas says, feeling uncertain again.  Would Dean want him to propose when he just said he had a terrible day?  Would it make things better or worse?  He needs to think about what’s best for Dean.

“You are, just by bein’ here,” Dean says, placing his hand over Cas’.  “Although, I know a way you could make my day better,” he leers, wiggling his brows and grinning.  Cas laughs, overwhelmed with love for this funny, incredible, _adorable_ man, and he suddenly knows just what he wants to ask.  He ignores the index card and leans forward.

“I bet you do,” he grins, then reaches out to caress his face.  “Would you like to be my one-life stand, Dean?”  As Dean grins and chuckles in return, Cas waits for his question to sink in.

“I would love to be your…  wait, what?” Dean asks, confusion clouding his features.

“My one-life stand,” Cas says, the words feeling right as he slides off the stool and digs into his pocket with the hand not pinned under Dean’s.  He holds a plain silver ring up enough for Dean to notice it and watches Dean’s mouth drop and his eyes fill with tears.  “Will you be my one-life stand, Dean?  Will you marry me?” he asks as his own tears make his voice quiver.  

“Cas,” Dean whispers, looking from the ring to Cas’ eyes several times, and Cas feels like he’s going to burst as he waits for Dean’s answer.  “Yeah,” he chuckles, then laughs aloud as his eyes spill over.  “Yes.  Yes!”  Dean shouts, finally pressing his face against Cas’ for a short, sweet, very damp kiss.  Cas feels relieved, ecstatic, full of life… like he’s taking his first breath.  In a sense, he is.   

Cas laughs as Dean is startled by the shouts and cheers erupting behind them, their family and friends joining in their utter joy.  Cas slips the ring on Dean’s finger and dons a matching ring of his own.  

“Best agreement ever,” Dean whispers in Cas’ ear before their loved ones surround them.  

  
“Agreed,” Cas says, pulling Dean close and kissing him as he thinks, _this was worth waiting for._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see Dean’s side, including his chat with Sam and Jess, check out the final chapter of “The Agreement” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479).
> 
> Wow, it’s over! Thank you to all of you for reading and leaving kudos and comments. Special thanks to those of you who have followed through as each chapter was posted. <3 Whether you choose to comment/kudo or not, please know that I am so grateful you’ve visited my story!
> 
> Writing two stories at once was both a challenge and an incredibly cool, fun adventure. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading as much as I’ve enjoyed writing. 
> 
> If you liked this, you might like some of my other stuff, so feel free to check out my other works and/or subscribe if you feel inspired to do so. Also, I’m on Tumblr by the same name, though I only remember to check it once a week. :p
> 
> And finally, here’s a little preview of my next fic, coming soon!
> 
> Kinda Like Family, Kinda Like Love
> 
> Cas Milton has wanted nothing more than to have children of his own. But when he finally gets his chance after years of disappointment, a strict set of rules almost dashes those dreams. Enter Dean Winchester: eternal bachelor, friend, and suddenly, Cas’ fiancé. Join Cas and Dean as they navigate marriage, adoption, and something that starts to feel kinda like love.


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